


All These Ashes in My Wake

by Im_Just_Honest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alpha Laura Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Mages, Child Isaac Lahey, Child Liam Dunbar, Gen, If You Squint - Freeform, Mages, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mentioned Kate Argent, Mild Language, Multi, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Witches, aged-down characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5041396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_Just_Honest/pseuds/Im_Just_Honest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She should've known better, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where there's a Hale, there's a way

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have any beta readers, so feel free to inform me of any spelling/grammar mistakes.

Celeste woke up early on a Monday morning to the smell of burning food. She groaned and rolled over, careful not to crush Liam, who was still sleeping peacefully, thumb in mouth. He'd be up in a little while, but Celeste knew better than to wake him. He had anger issues, and she didn't like to deal with it in the morning. So, the result was having a 3 year old sleep in her bed till he chose to wake up. It's nowhere near as annoying as it sounds; he's been potty trained since he was two and he's a natural cuddler.

Celeste galloped down the stairs, where Erica was in the kitchen burning what smelled an awful lot like eggs. Isaac was nodding at the table. He'd probably followed Erica down when he'd heard her on the stairs, like usual. Celeste came up on his side, fingering the downy hair on his cheeks. He leaned into her touch, nuzzling his face into her stomach. He was still pretty new at controlling the shift, so it was relatively normal for him to unconsciously show it. That's why she was home schooling him; until he could control the shift consistently, she wasn't about to put him in kindergarten with a bunch of humans for hours on end.

Erica dumped the burnt eggs in the sink with an angry little hiss. Celeste kissed Isaac's head, hiding a smile in his curls. Erica didn't cook for a reason. Usually she was fine with just letting Celeste cook -preferred it, actually- so it was a little confusing as to why she had tried in the first place.

"What's up, Erica?" Celeste asked, disentangling herself from Isaac. He gave an indignant little huff. It was hilarious, seeing his huge golden eyes screw up with annoyance paired with his overhanging brow, fangs peeking out from pursed lips.

Erica ran a hand through her hair. She was looking a little pale. "This is dumb. I can't do anything right." She hissed

"You couldn't cook in the first place." Celeste said flatly.

With Erica, sometimes it was important to cut her off before she went off on a negative tangent.

"Now, do you want to tell me what's really on your mind or are you going to sulk all day about it? Because you have school in an hour."

"I don't want to go to school!" Erica hissed, kicking a cabinet. Celeste felt a spark of irritation at her little sister -they just got here, and already Erica's taking her anger out on the house- but quickly pushed it down. It wouldn't do any good to piss her off right before school.

Erica's shoulders slumped. "I hate this town. I just wanted to make us breakfast so we could do something normal."

Something in Celeste's chest got all tight. "Oh honey." She breathed, closing the gap between them and drawing Erica into her arms. Erica didn't say anything, but her fingers twisted up Celeste's tee shirt. High school had to be hard for her. She'd already had friends back home, and now she was the new kid well into sophomore year.

"I'm sorry, Erica. Is there anything I can do-?"

"Punch Lydia Martin in the face." She mumbled into her neck. "And Jackson Whittemore."

"Lydia Martin? The rich girl, right?"

Erica nodded. "She called me KMart on my first day, and now her stupid boyfriend does it too."

"Do I need to have a talk with her mom?"

Erica made a face like Celeste had suggested murder. "God no. Her mom is a teacher at school. I don't want to commit social suicide and sink my grade in her class."

"She can't fail you because her bratty daughter doesn't like you, Erica." Celeste grumbled

Erica pulled away to go set out the things Celeste would need to make a proper breakfast. "Can't you just hex her or something? Nothing big, just like give her acne or something. I had this zit last week and Jackson would not stop talking about it. And he called me Erica Reeks after gym!"

"Oh my god." Celeste gasped, one hand on her heart. "Scandalous! Did he also pull on your pigtails at recess?"

Erica shoved Celeste, fighting back a grin behind quivering lips. "It's not funny! I'm not a werewolf or a mage, Celeste. I can't just scare them half to death and turn their hair different colors at will. I need some kind of offense!"

"Girl, you hold your chin high and show them they can't intimidate you. Best offense is a good defense, you know."

"Easy for you to say! You're all-!" Erica flailed her arms at Celeste. "And I'm all-!" More flailing. Celeste rolled her eyes. She scooped Isaac up from where he'd effectively fallen asleep at the table. He sniffed at her neck, licked it tentatively. He must've smelled something he liked because he settled right back in a few seconds later with a happy sigh. Celeste shifted him onto her hip, holding a hand out for Erica to take.

Erica eyed Celeste's hands like it was a poisonous snake. Celeste rolled her eyes. "Come on, Pretty Woman. I think it's about time that you showed those rich kids just who they're messing with."

"Like Cinder-Freaking-Ella?" Erica said, voice raising.

She snatched Celeste's hand and led her upstairs. In her room, Celeste set Isaac down beside Liam. He curled protectively around his little brother, burying his face in Liam's hair.

In Erica's room, Celeste went through her little sister's closet, pulling out an outfit for her to wear. She'd bought this particular outfit a while ago, and Erica had adamantly refused to wear it even once. True to form, Erica made a gagging noise at her choice.

"A skirt, Celeste? Those things are in the back for a reason."

"Don't be so dramatic. A skirt won't kill you."

"Says the girl that wears overalls to work."

"Oh my god Erica, fine." Celeste mock yelled, diving back into the closet to pull out dark jeans and a tee shirt.

Erica was complaining again, telling Celeste that she wore stuff like that every day already. Celeste doubled back into her room to pull get a pair of soft brown booties and a matching leather jacket.

"Those are heels!" Erica cried. "I can't walk in them, I'm not Lydia Martin."

"They're like three inches and the heels are chunky; you'll be fine. And stop saying her full name like that. You know names have power." Celeste chided her.

Erica's face went sheepish as she apologized. She understood most things about magic, the main one being that names only have as much power as one allows them to. Celeste didn't generally get on Erica's back about magic--Erica has a spark, but no matter how hard Celeste has tried, it's never become strong enough to do anything harder than lighting a candle under _extreme_ duress--but if there was one thing she didn't tolerate, it was giving names power by channeling a surplus of emotion into them. Erica changed out of her sleep shirt into the outfit Celeste had picked out for her. While she did huff and puff about the shoes, she didn't actually take them off.

Celeste counted it as a victory.

* * *

 

"What is this?"

"A push up bra."

* * *

 

Celeste ushered Erica into the bathroom, where she curled her already wavy hair and forced Erica to sit still and stop slap-boxing her long enough to apply some makeup for her. Erica hugged Celeste when they were done, squeezing as tight as her human body would allow. Celeste groaned in her grip.

"You sure you're not a werewolf? The super strength is killing me." Celeste laughed

"You're the best." Erica breathed

"Trying to kill me with all the affection? You know I'm allergic to it. Come on, grab your backpack and head downstairs for breakfast."

"Do you want me to go get-" Erica started

"MAMA!!!" Liam screamed

Celeste huffed a laugh through her nose. The baby was up. "No, I've got him. I'll bring the boys down."

"Well hurry up, because last week I was late because Liam couldn't find his favorite jacket for the car ride."

"You know if we hadn't found it, I would've ended up having to explain to the principal why your little brother had sprouted fur and was literally howling in the car."

"Excuses." Erica teased. She hustled out of the bathroom and Celeste listened to the sound of her banging around in her room for a few seconds before starting for her own bedroom.

Liam was rolling around on his back, trying to get Isaac off of him. Isaac playfully nipped at his nose, his ears, his cheeks. He loved riling Liam up in the morning, and Liam liked to roughhouse with his brother, so. Celeste put a hand on Isaac's head and pat once. He rolled off of Liam, face scrunched up with effort to push the shift back under his skin. Celeste ran her thumb over his now smooth brow.

"You're getting good at that, Isaac. Just like a grown up." Celeste hummed

Isaac beamed. "I practiced and everything!"

"I can tell." Celeste said, pulling Liam into her arms.

He snuffled wetly, scenting her neck. His claws were tiny little pin pricks on her shoulders. They'd go away soon enough, just like the beta shift he was rocking on his face. Liam, unlike Isaac, was a born wolf, so he had a little easier of a time subduing his wolf because it had been there since he was a baby. Not much, given his age and tendency to throw tantrums, but it was still more reflexive than it was for Isaac, a bitten wolf.

"Go get dressed, Isaac. We're going to drop Erica off and then we're going to work." Celeste said, heading for her dresser where Liam clearly thought he had surreptitiously been adding his clothes. Celeste knew he was doing it and she let him. She didn't mind that he anchored himself to her. It was probably for the best that the youngest tie himself to a steady well of energy.

Isaac's anchor was a triskelion, one that Celeste had been preaching to him for the past year: Nyx, Prometheus, and Hades.The mother of all born from her moon, the protector of humanity, and the ruler of the Ether. They all gave and took from each other, just like the human and the wolf. It was a weird three to teach, Celeste realized, but it was a three that had worked for Isaac.

"Come on, little man. Arms up." Celeste said gently, holding out a tee shirt for him. He obediently raised his arms and let her dress him. After he had pants and shoes on, he ran to his room and came back with a red sequin headband and thrust it into Celeste's hands. She gently combed his hair back with her fingers and pulled the band down over his head and slid it up. His hair was getting long these days, nearly to his shoulders. He beamed at her.

"Pretty?" He asked

Celeste smacked a noisy kiss on his forehead. "So pretty." She chooed. He giggled and ran downstairs, screaming to Erica and Isaac. Celeste tried to make a grab for him, a feeble "don't run" on the tip of her tongue, but he was already gone. Celeste shook her head, smiling and got dressed for the day.

* * *

 

"Goddamnit, I do wear overalls a lot."

* * *

 

Downstairs, Isaac was shoving Erica in the hips to get at the waffles on the counter. Erica took it in stride, dropping her stance so she couldn't be moved, werewolf strength or no. She has some kind of insecurity about being human, so she's always found little ways to exert her dominance over her brothers. Celeste took Liam's plate from him and put a waffle on it before giving it back. He made a sound that could only be classified as a purr as he took a corner of it into a tiny hand and started eating it, standing right in the middle of the kitchen, casual as you please.

"Erica, not funny!" Isaac whined

Erica laughed. "Says who? What's wrong, your baby wolf can't help you?"

Isaac growled, and oh, those are fangs. Celeste came up behind Erica and popped her in the head. She cried out, rubbing the spot where she'd been hit. Celeste gave her a thoroughly unimpressed look. Why piss off a 6 year old bitten wolf first thing in the morning? He could hurt her without meaning to--again--and then there would be tears from both sides to deal with.

Celeste got them all to the table for breakfast. Erica tore into her food with a grunt. The sass on her face was undeniable.

"What?" Celeste asked innocently

Erica rolled her eyes. "Magic voodoo waffles? These weren't down here at first; I thought we were laying low."

"We are." Celeste said conversationally, watching the boys eat. "Doesn't mean we can't be ourselves in the house." she crossed her arms. "And it's not voodoo."

"One of these days you're going to get pissed in public and just cause a typhoon or something."

"Yeah, alright." Celeste snorted. "Clearly you haven't been studying my bestiary like I told you to, because kitsunes are the ones that mess with the weather when they're angry."

"The bestiary is boring." Erica stressed. "I have better things to do on Friday nights than take notes on how many different types of hags there are."

"There are four that I've come across, and they all have a taste for small children."

"Seriously?" Erica sputtered, coughing up a chunk of waffle. Isaac laughed at her, and Liam laughed because Isaac was laughing. Celeste rubbed her back. "That kind of shi...stuff actually happens?"

"Of course it does." Celeste deadpanned. "This isn't some fairy-tale nonsense, Erica. Why do you think I'm teaching you about it? You have two brothers under ten; werewolf or not, there are any number of supernatural entities that would love to snack on them given the chance."

"This week on Supernatural." Erica grumbled. Celeste laughed. "Yeah, I get it. I'll start studying again."

"There will be a test." Celeste warned. "I'm not asking you to be a glorified Winchester, but it's better to not be in the dark."

"The fact that you know about Supernatural is so weird."

"I'm hip."

Erica barked a laugh. "You're done, is what you are."

After breakfast, Celeste loaded the boys into the jeep and drove Erica to school. Beacon Hills was one of those small towns where everyone knew everyone, so Erica had stuck out like a sore thumb when she first enrolled at Beacon Hills High three weeks ago. Even Celeste was subject to stares and prying questions when she went out. These people had nothing better to do, it seemed. Just about everyone knew her as the single mom that lived off in the woods with her kids. Legally,Erica was her little sister while Isaac and Liam were her sons. Isaac was 6, Liam was 3, and that pretty much made a 23 year old Celeste the poster child for pity and attention.

It was really only a matter of time before someone made her a muffin basket.

Celeste dropped Erica off and drove to downtown Beacon Hills, where she owned a bookstore for occult products and literature. The previous owner had all but thrown the business at her when he saw what she was willing to pay for it. The thing was, she'd owned a similar store back home, and it had been pretty successful so it wasn't too hard to throw a couple zeros on a check to relocate. Now, the store was filled with the previous owner's products and her own. She had knocked down the wall separating the front and the back, giving the place a more open floor plan. It was a plus that she could now see the entire store from the register.

Nothing on the main level could really be used for spells--not powerful ones, at least. That kind of stuff was kept either at home or in the store's upstairs area. Celeste didn't know if she wanted to give council on supernatural issues anymore, since that was largely what had caused her to grab anything that wasn't nailed down and skip town the last time. 

Celeste shuddered.

Inside, Celeste and the boys opened the store. It was Liam's turn to flip the sign. Isaac put his brother on his shoulders and helped him turn the sign while Celeste pulled open the blinds and turned on the lights. The store really was like one of her children. Erica worked here on the weekends, but Celeste carried most of the weight for it. She didn't mind; she was glad that Erica was putting in so much effort for school.

"'Leste!" Isaac giggled, batting at Liam's tiny hands where he'd covered his brother's eyes. "Customer!"

True to his word, the bell chimed a handful of seconds later. She'd have to reward Isaac later; he was getting better at focusing his hearing on specific things.

In walked a big, burly looking man with what seemed to be a permanent scowl. If he wasn't trying to look like a serial killer, he was missing the mark big time. His light eyes held on Isaac and Liam a little too long before swinging to Celeste. She went for nonchalance when he stalked up to the counter. His hands didn't slam down on it, per say, but it wasn't exactly gentle.

"Why are you here?" He asked, voice tense.

Behind the counter, Celeste squared her feet. She wasn't really looking forward to a confrontation, especially not one that ended in physical altercation, but you never know.

"You're the one that barged in here like you own the place." Celeste said evenly. "Which you don't. Last time I checked, my name's the one on the deed."

"You show up out of nowhere with two betas and expect it to go unnoticed? You're on claimed territory."

"Werewolves are make believe!" Isaac chirped from the floor, where he and Liam had taken out their Legos. Then he giggled, like he was in on some huge joke. Celeste grinned at the man in front of her.

He looked livid.

Well then.

"You heard him. I know I own an occult store, but you realize that none of it's real, right?"

"Don't mock me." He growled. Actually growled, deep in his throat in broad daylight.

Celeste couldn't help the disapproving scowl she gave him. Her 6 year old knew better than to growl in public. The lack of control in this man was appalling.

"Don't you growl at me. Who do you think you are, anyways? Where's your alpha? Do they know you're giving me the shake down?"

Celeste was irritated. It's one thing for nosey busybodies to pester her. It's a whole 'nother ball park when a beta strides into her shop taking names. Judging by the way his face scrunched up at the mention of his alpha, he clearly hadn't consulted them.

Celeste snapped her fingers once, sharply when the boys started to growl. Silence filled the store instantly. They knew better, unlike this man.

"I'm here on my alpha's behalf. You're required to have an audience with her and state your intentions."

"Now, I'm usually not one to turn people away, but you and your alpha don't own jack squat, so I have no reason to seek her out."

He snorted, indignant. "We've owned this land for hundreds-"

"What's your name?" Celeste cut him off. "I have a pretty good guess but I want you to tell me."

"Derek Hale." He grunted.

Ah. A Hale. Of course.

Celeste drummed her fingers on the countertop. "Read up on your boundaries, handsome." she drawled. "My house isn't on your land, and I'm sure as sugar allowed to open a store here according to town law."

Derek scowled. "You can't bring two pups into town and not consult the local alpha, whether you intend to join their pack or not."

"I'm not?" Celeste laughed. Was she the only one that actually knew werewolf law? "You might want to brush up on the rules there. I'm feeling all kinds of secondhand embarrassment for how uninformed you are."

Derek growled again, flashing blue eyes at her. Celeste blinked at him. Blatant disrespect from a werewolf, and a beta at that. It must be her unassuming face. That has to be why everyone here seems to think she's incapable of handling herself. She gave him a good once over. Stupidly attractive, tall, and broad. Derek bore a certain resemblance to the other Hales she had met before.

Lucky bunch, that pack. So pretty.

"Mama, hugs?" Liam interrupted quietly. Celeste came from behind the counter, purposely going around Derek to stride up to Liam and pick him up. He didn't understand the situation; he would probably tire himself out if he tried to pick through the tension in the air. Liam rubbed absently at her neck where Isaac had licked her earlier.

Behind her, Derek inhaled sharply.

"You're letting him scent you." It wasn't a question.

"Of course I am." Celeste said slowly, as if Derek didn't understand. "He's a baby."

"Do you even understand what he's doing? It's not a baby getting touchy; it's a wolf marking his territory."

She must look like a complete idiot. There's no other reason as to why Derek seems to think she's stupid. It's the face. She's always had issues with other people concerning it. She must be playing the part of a clueless human pretty damn well for Derek to be talking down to her like this.

Derek grabbed Celeste's shoulder and spun her around sharply, which was a horrible idea. One, because, rude. Two, because he'd effectively interrupted a werewolf from scenting his anchor. And three, because he'd essentially laid hands on the alpha to two temperamental betas.

Isaac was half shifted and running at Derek, claws out and raring to go when Liam lunged at Derek in Celeste's arms, snarling through a mouthful of fangs.

Derek roared at Isaac to slow him, which for the record did absolutely nothing, the brave boy. It was _Celeste_ that tucked Liam under one arm and used the other to take Isaac by his throat and hold him back. She set them both on their feet, lips pursed at them. They both looked pissed, but not at Celeste. She took their chins in her hands to make them look at her. It was trying, finding words to reprimand them with when she was proud of them for protecting their alpha.

She took a deep breath.

"Mama is okay. I'm very happy that you wanted to protect me, but Derek isn't going to hurt me. Isn't that right, Derek?"

Two pairs of angry yellow eyes went over her head to where Derek was still standing behind her. He made a mildly offended noise.

"Yes." He growled

Celeste smiled at her boys, slow and easy. "See that, I'm okay. Now I want you to shift back."

"You can't force the shift, not in children." Derek muttered

Celeste felt a sharp pang of irritation. "Enough from you. You've done enough." she said sharply.

She quickly pushed her anger to the recesses of her mind before the boys caught whiff of it on her skin. It would only serve to key them up again. She rubbed their faces, letting them nuzzle into her palms as they pushed the wolf back under their skin, Liam doing so faster than Isaac.

When they were done, she gave them both a big, proud smile. “That was _so_ good.” Celeste crooned. “No one got stuck. Good job.”

Liam wrapped himself up in her arms again, expecting to be held. Celeste obliged easily. He was always especially clingy around strangers, eager to mark his territory. More bearable than if he tried to pee on her leg, she supposed. Derek scowled at the contact but wisely didn't comment again. Isaac hung back behind her leg, fingers just barely grazing her thigh. Clinging without clinging, the Isaac specialty. Celeste leveled Derek with a pointed stare.

"Your alpha is welcome to come see me here if she wants to talk. Neither she, nor anyone else in your pack is allowed anywhere near my house. I want that to be made clear, because I won't be held responsible for reacting accordingly to a trespasser." she warned

"Our pack isn't going to submit to your threats." Derek hissed

Celeste resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't a threat. "I'm allowed to defend myself against unwarranted intruders. Pretty sure California has a decent Make My Day policy. Now, if you're not going to buy anything..."

Derek left the shop in what could only be described as a huff. He even slammed the door as he went, making the boys wince from the sharp noise. Celeste snorted. Fucking packs, thinking they could trample over anything remotely supernatural.

She set Liam down in his playpen, situated parallel to the counter--never so far that she couldn't get to him in a quick step or two--and went over to the stack of boxes in the corner. She'd gotten a new shipment of vampire lore just yesterday, and she hadn't had time to start shelving anything. "Isaac, come help me out." Celeste called over her shoulder Isaac rushed over to her side and obediently stood, arms out as Celeste loaded books into his waiting hands.

* * *

"He wasn't very nice." Isaac grumbled

Celeste snorted a laugh.

* * *

"You _what?"_ Laura snarled

Derek fought the urge to flinch away from his alpha. Laura was furious, pacing back and forth, swinging clawed hands as she spoke. Derek doubted Laura had even noticed the slip; he wasn't going to be the one to tell her about it. The floorboards creaked under her march. They'd just finished renovations and she was already going to wear a hole into the floor.

Derek didn't see a problem with what had happened today; All he'd done was approach someone who had entered town with two pups without bothering to do so much as consult the local pack. It was within his right as second in command to do so.

Derek crossed his arms defensively. "Laura." he interrupted roughly. "She entered town lines with not one, but two pups. Whether she knows werewolf law or not, she was aware of our presence and never once tried to approach us."

Besides, Derek added mentally, she _had_ known. She'd taunted him like he was an idiot, like she, a _human_ , knew more about his law than he did. Derek scowled at the memory of her condescending smile and tone.

Laura ran a hand through her hair. "Derek." she replied, just as rough. "We don't know the circumstances that led her to be in custody of two pups. We can't just take them because she's human."

"She threatened me." Derek argued

"She warned you to stay off of her property. There's a difference." Laura said dismissively

"She's hiding something, Laura!" Derek finally yelled, patience out the window. He knew that his eyes must be glowing bright blue but he couldn't help himself. Laura wasn't seeing his reason.

"She knows about werewolves, Laura. This wasn't some human mother learning as she went. She got them to shift back when they were aggravated, and it was a quick thing. They stopped growling just because she snapped her fingers. She acted like she knew more about werewolf law than I did."

Laura's gaze was wary, her mouth set in a thin line. "Even if that's the case-- _especially_ if that's the case, it was foolish to corner her like that, in broad daylight. You don't know what she's capable of. _I_ don't know what she's capable of. We have to be smart about this."

"And how do you suggest we do that? She made it pretty damn clear that we weren't welcome on her property unless we were looking for a fight. You're the only one she'll hold any kind of audience with."

Laura stopped pacing, eyes bright. Derek knew that face. Laura was piecing through a plan.

After a beat, she smiled, slow and predatory.

"There's a third kid. She goes to school with the rest of the pack. I'm sure one of them could get on her good side and be invited into her house. They could find out whatever needs to be found out about this woman. I'll approach her officially, as alpha. While I'm getting whatever I can from her, someone else can be getting whatever she won't tell me."

Sometimes Derek was really afraid of his sister.


	2. What the Hale is your problem?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just one day. She just wanted one day where everyone wasn't jumping down her throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr, but it's pretty much all over the place. I'm in the process of making a blog just for my fics/drabbles/etc. I'll post a link when I'm done making it.

Around four, Erica came into the shop. She dropped her bag loudly behind the register. Celeste let Erica stomp around and generally make noise, ignoring her in favor of helping Isaac reach a higher shelf. He was a tall boy, but the bookshelves were daunting.

Celeste was short, herself. She had to use a ladder to put books on the top shelves. The books up there weren't meant for access to the _general_  public, per say. The books themselves weren't actually magical in nature, like the ones upstairs, but they held a lot more truth to them than what Celeste would be comfortable selling to a human client.

They were covered with a simple glamour that (most) humans couldn't see through. To the boys, the books weren't there unless they stared for more than a minute, squinting through sharpened werewolf vision.

Once Isaac had shelved the last book from the latest shipment, Celeste helped him down from the step ladder. He set off for Liam, who was sleeping in the playpen. Celeste turned her back at Liam's grumpy little snarl at being awoken by Isaac, letting them wrestle.

She walked up to Erica, who was hunched down over a box of simple herbs, digging around. Celeste put a hand on her shoulder. Erica jumped.

"Don't you have homework?" Celeste asked. Erica didn't work in the store, not during the week at least. Usually she either walked home or did her homework at the local library until Celeste closed up for the day or took a break to take her home, one.

"I finished it." Erica said quickly, but avoided eye contact with Celeste.

Celeste rounded the box, crouching down in front of Erica. Her sister was prone to tell tales, sure, but Erica seemed shaken.

"What are you looking for?" Celeste asked evenly

"Do we carry silverweed?" Erica asked, taking out jars one by one, checking their contents, and putting them to the side on the floor. She still hadn't looked up at Celeste.

Silverweed? Celeste made a face.

"What are you doing with your hands that you need silverweed for?" she asked in turn. Silverweed, or five-finger grass, was used to bring success in whatever tasks five fingers could do.

Erica sat back on her heels, letting loose a frustrated noise after coming up with nothing of use in the box. When she finally met Celeste's eyes, she had an irritated little look on her face.

"We have to climb the rock wall tomorrow in gym." Erica said. "I'm gonna fall in front of everyone."

"I'm sure you won't be the first person to fall, and you definitely won't be the last."

"Celeste!" Erica hissed. "Can you be serious for once? This is important to me! I'm not good at anything! I can't do sports because of my epilepsy, so I can't work off the weight I gain because of the damn pills. I just want to not be useless for once."

Erica took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. The skin around her eyes was pinched. "Just once, Celeste. I won't make it a habit to use it. I promise."

It pained Celeste that Erica had to live with a chronic condition, but she couldn't tip the balance in Erica's favor by healing it, or at least trying to. Magic is all about give and take.There would always be retribution down the road; something would have to be taken away in exchange for Celeste giving Erica a clean bill of health, for even attempting to undo what nature had done to her.

She couldn't risk it, not with two other kids to worry about. It could affect something completely unrelated and never make it back to them, or the balance could spite Celeste and choose to take one of the boys. The risks were just too great.

By all means, Celeste had the _capacity_ to heal Erica. It wasn't a matter of having a strong enough spark; Celeste feared the consequences that came with both doing something so drastic and the entirely possible chance of making a mistake, making it _worse_. Instead of telling Erica that curing her epilepsy away was in Celeste's realm of ability, Celeste let modern medicine take the place of magic. That in itself wasn't without its faults, either. Erica's epilepsy medicine caused weight gain and acne, and she's always been self concious about it.

Celeste looked down. "I can't let you use it, Erica. You have intent and belief, so anything you use these herbs for will be amplified. It'll tip the balance." She said quietly 

Celeste didn't have to look up to know that Erica was scowling at her.

"That's not fair!" Erica protested. "You sell it to humans without a second thought, but when I want it there's a problem?"

"That's different and you know it. They don't know what they're doing with it, and they don't truly believe that it'll work, so it doesn't. Even if it does, it's weak because they don't know how to use magic. You, to an extent, know what you're doing and how to manipulate it. It's dangerous."

"Oh my God, Celeste it's just silverweed! What's the worst that could-"

"I think you should take the keys and your brothers and go home." Celeste cut her off, eyes hard.

Erica scrambled to her feet, muttering under her breath as she stormed away from Celeste. Celeste listened to the sounds of Celeste getting her brothers ready to leave. She didn't even get a goodbye when Erica snatched the keys off of the hook behind the counter. The shop door slammed behind the three of them as they left.

Celeste stared at the jars blankly. She didn't like upsetting Erica, but there was really no other option when she got like this. It was pretty obvious that Erica didn't like being human, not in the slightest, and it only seemed to be getting worse as she got older. She wasn't comfortable in her own skin.

The doorbell chimed, breaking Celeste out of her tangent. She wiped her hands off on her pants, standing up to face the customer with a bright, easy smile. This, she could do. She knew this.

"What're you looking for today?"

* * *

Celeste laughed bitterly at the mason jar in her hand. 

"She didn't even look that hard."

* * *

Upstairs, Celeste sat down heavy at her desk with her head in her hands. Alone like this, she had nothing to do but think. This move hadn't been easy on anyone. She hadn't wanted to leave, but she'd had no other choice. Her options had been either to leave or square down with an entire pack. It had been hard enough convincing them that Liam was hers alone. They had wanted to take him as a beta of their pack and Celeste as their emissary.

However, they refused to let Erica and Isaac--who'd been human at the time--into the pack because they didn't accept humans and had no desire to give anyone the bite (Celeste wouldn't have let them anyway). To them, born wolves were the _only_ kind of Were. They'd called her human family all kinds of degrading names in an in attempt to get Celeste to see how  _useless_ and _weak_ the two of them were.

When it became clear that Celeste wasn't going to drop everything, accept their offer, and put everyone but Liam into the system, she was informed that she could no longer stay on their land. They told her that staying any longer would be seen as an act of outright confrontation. Celeste hadn't believed them, had scoffed in the face of such a bold threat.

But then they attacked Isaac.

He had been on his way out of kindergarten, backpack in hand when they grabbed him. Celeste had been just across the parking lot, because Isaac had been telling her for the past week that he was a big boy and didn't need his mom holding his hand. She had wanted to give him some freedom. 

_"I know to look both ways, Mama." he'd said_

She had run after the car, screaming as they pulled off with her child. They'd made sure no one had seen them snatch him. There weren't even any plates on the goddamn car.

Celeste had rushed home, forced Erica to lock herself and Liam in the basement while she performed a locator spell. Erica hadn't liked taking instruction so blindly, but one look into Celeste's eyes must've shown her that now wasn't the time to question her sister. 

 _"Where's Isaac? Celeste,_  where _is Isaac?!" she'd asked_

Isaac had been on the very edge of the pack's territory. She knew why they had done that; they'd taken who they perceived to be one of the reasons why Celeste wouldn't join their pack. By putting him on the border--where he wasn't technically under their jurisdiction and therefore not theirs to defend--they meant to show Celeste that she wasn't welcome.

That hadn't been the worst part. No, what had _truly_ scared Celeste was that she could barely get a read on him. Locator spells work no matter what the distance unless the person you're reaching for is either fading or something has changed the way your magic used to perceive them. Isaac had to be hurt bad enough for it to be messing with her spell. Celeste was no mere witch practicing spells in her basement for shits and giggles; if her magic wasn't working, Isaac was in serious trouble.

Celeste had torn out of the house like a bat out of hell, body swelling and pulsing with unrestrained magic. Everything she usually kept beneath her skin, just under the surface, was flooding out in waves. Her entire being sang for release, for some way to expel the energy she had managed to wrap around itself in her worry.

Isaac was alone when she found him.

His neck and shoulder was a mess of gore, gushing blood from a careless bite.

The fang marks were in the shape of that of a wolf, not a human.

He was terrified, sobbing and coughing up black bile as his body tried valiantly to reject the bite. Celeste felt rage course through her. Their alpha had chased Isaac--a _child--_ down in his alpha form and torn into him like he was any other game.

No wonder she hadn't been able to get a good read on him--she'd been tracking him as a human, not this... _in between_ he'd been forced into.

There had been _so much_ blood. She'd never heard Isaac cry so much, scream so loud. She'd watched, horrified as black veins coursed out from the site of the bite. His body was really rejecting the bite; sometimes humans rejected it for a short while before their bodies gave in, but this was different. He wasn't healing. Isaac was going to die.

He was going to die as a fucking _warning_ to leave town.

The realization rocked Celeste to her core. She couldn't let that happen; She _wouldn't._ There was only a handful of spells that were strong enough to save Isaac, but most of them required a sacrifice and a shit ton of ingredients that she hadn't had on hand. There was one, though, that only needed someone to take the place of the person about to die. Celeste grit her teeth and did what she had to do.

That night, howls lit up the sky like stars as Celeste fled with a severely weakened Isaac.

* * *

Celeste sagged into her chair. She lit a cigarette with trembling fingers.

"Goddamnit."

* * *

Celeste knew the second the alpha stepped into her shop. It was like a hot zing of energy straight down her spine. More surprising than painful, like a jolt of static electricity. She grit her teeth, resisting every urge that told her to either run or fight. She was just keyed up from earlier, when she'd remembered The Attack. She wasn't in danger. Not imminently, at least. The boys were at home with Erica for the night. If she had to defend herself, she was more than capable of doing so. So she calmed herself and spun slowly to face the alpha, easy grin on her face once more.

The alpha was tall and pretty in the way that all Hale wolves seemed to be. Her cheekbones were sharp, her features regal in a way. She was slim and lithe, more like a jaguar than a wolf.

Her posture suggested that she had some muscle lying beneath that leather jacket, but not so much that she was bursting at the seams like Derek had seemed to be. She had long black hair, straight as a pin without a wave or curl to it. Her skin was fair, like she didn't get much sun. It was a sharp contrast to Celeste's tan skin and sandy brown hair. Sure, she'd bleached it a few shades lighter so her, Erica and the boys would look like a unit, but still.

Unlike Derek's weird myriad of colors, the alpha's eyes leaned more towards green than anything, with the occasional burst of amber. And wow, she was waxing poetic about a werewolf's eyes. She really needed to get a grip before she said any of this stupid shit out loud.

Celeste put her hands in the pockets of her apron, the picture of nonchalance.

"What're you looking for?" she drawled

The alpha took a step further into the shop. Her entire being commanded attention, unlike Celeste, who made it a point to fade into the background. She wanted to be an easily forgettable face; she drew less attention that way.

"My beta was in here earlier. I'm Laura Hale, alpha of the Hale pack." she introduced herself. Her voice was inviting, but not as warm as she probably meant for it to be. 

Celeste nodded. "I gathered that." she pointedly didn't offer a hand for Alpha Hale to shake.

"Your beta, Derek tried to shake me down earlier. Riled my sons up real good."

"I apologize for that." Alpha Hale said lightly. Celeste's brow ticked up; Bold, lying to her face. Celeste saw the statement for what it was: while she may regret the way Derek approached Celeste, Alpha Hale was not sorry for the confrontation occurring. 

"But it was within his right as my second in command to approach you." Alpha Hale added. Ah. There it is; the justification of overstepping. "Are you aware of the laws set in place for werewolves?"

Celeste rocked back on her heels. This again. "You're talking about that one rule that states in no definitive terms that anyone entering pack lines that isn't human has to consult with the local pack." she said flatly. "You wanted me to ask before I came into town, correct?"

Alpha Hale nodded. "It's law; otherwise, I'd have no idea of the possible threats coming in and out of my territory."

Her tone suggested that she thought they were coming to a common ground. _Good job, human, you know the rules. Submit to me._

" _See_ , that's the thing." Celeste said snidely. She was getting real tired of defending her right to just be. All she wanted was a fresh start for herself and her family. "I'm not on your territory. Technically, I don't even live in Beacon Hills."

"Your house is-"

"Right on the other side of your border." Celeste cut her off, taking a step forward. It wasn't an outright threat, but Celeste knew that Alpha Hale could see what was happening. Celeste was very clearly taking up space, claiming the territory as her own and therefore hers to roam around in. She could get in Alpha Hale's face if she wanted to. 

Alpha Hale squared her shoulders. Celeste could care less for the gesture. The aura loudly presenting itself around the alpha was almost laughable. It was red for her alpha status, sure, but it leaned more towards pink than anything. Her pack had to be small--and not completely united--for it to be showing in her aura so clearly.

Normally, an alpha would have a dense, rich red aura that Celeste could feel on her skin, in her scalp, _in her teeth_ if she really focused. She'd stared down worse adversaries than Alpha Hale in her time. If she wanted to, Celeste could have Alpha Hale on her back without having to move a muscle. An alpha as weak as her...there would hardly be any kind of struggle.

If Alpha Hale noticed Celeste's eyes darting around her instead of staring into her own, she didn't say anything.

"Twenty minute drive into town to run my shop and take my sister to school every day." she found herself saying, dry and deadpan. "It's a bitch getting her there on time, what with the little ones running around every morning."

Alpha Hale barked a laugh. "So you thought you could skirt the law just by finding a loophole. You have two pups. You're clearly not Were, so how did you end up with them?"

"While that's quite literally none of you're business, they're adopted." Celeste said curtly. "Next question. You seem like the nosy type."

Alpha Hale's jaw twitched. "As alpha, I'm going to need to see them, to make sure they're being brought up right. It can be hard on weres raised by humans. Some things just can't be taught by a human."

Well it's a damn good thing Celeste _isn't_ human, she thought bitterly. She smiled salaciously at Laura. "You have no right to my boys. I however am always free for..." she gave Alpha Hale a very obvious up and down. Alpha Hale looked like she was refraining from baring her teeth, but only just. "I don't want any problems, but you and your brother are making it awful hard for my family to coexist."

"You should have thought about that before you came into my territory and very literally set up shop."

Celeste laughed. "Cute, but so long as I'm not on your territory, I don't need to answer to you. I can contact the Sheriff's office if you'd like to dispute my right to own a shop within town lines?" she asked innocently 

Alpha Hale stiffened almost imperceptibly, her aura folding around her like a blanket. Whereas before it was only an outline, more of a silhouette of Alpha Hale than anything, it flared up into the shape of a wolf, just barely larger than her body.

While it was the shape of a wolf, like all Weres, it didn't have glowing spots where they eyes should be and it certainly wasn't all that large. A big, bad, wolf indeed.  Celeste swallowed a condescending grin. The two glowing spots--the wolf's eyes--were windows into the wolf, according to the bestiaries Celeste had read. They signified a wolf's ability to shift.

Alpha Hale couldn't shift into an actual wolf; that ability seemed to have skipped over her completely. Strange, considering that she was a Hale alpha.

"Hear me out." Alpha Hale started, tone placating. "It's a safety thing. I have to know who's coming in and out of my territory, and I don't know who you are."

"You're really beating this territory thing to death. Besides, you never really asked for my name, now did you." Celeste said offhandedly

"You're Celeste Reyes. Everyone knows about you, and I always know the talk spreading around my town. I don't actually know _you,_ though." Alpha Hale was back to that roundabout, playful cat and mouse tone that she'd led with.

Under any other circumstance, Celeste would have been smitten by the beautiful face and charming words. Alpha Hale was that breathtaking sort of beautiful, the kind that made you put yourself down when she walked in the room. But this wasn't just Celeste talking to Laura; this was some alternate, warped reality, where Celeste was a threat to an alpha werewolf.

She was being assessed by a predator.

Celeste delved deeper into her facade of pedestrian ignorance. "I'll bite. What would you like to know?" She asked. "Speak now or forever hold your peace."

"What are you?" Alpha Hale asked bluntly, just this side of rude. Celeste wanted to laugh at that. No wonder her pack was so weak; her betas can't be taking too kindly to that rude, blunt ass personality of hers. It just rubs you the wrong way, and if Celeste weren't a go with the flow type of person--people with her _affinity_ usually were--she'd probably be offended.

"Well, my both of my parents had French origins. That's where Celeste comes from-"

"You know what I mean." she cut Celeste off playfully. Celeste didn't rise to the bait, the goading hidden behind a white smile. If Alpha Hale wanted to learn about what Celeste was, she'd have to seek her answers elsewhere. 

She shrugged. "You're the wolf here. What do I smell like?" Celeste asked, perfectly confident and completely relaxed. She was covered in a glamour designed specifically to keep everyone but the kids out. It was tricky, making a glamour that purposely allowed three specific people to see through it if they looked hard enough. Tricky, but not impossible. After The Attack, Celeste wasn't putting herself out there to be discovered again. She refused to present herself as anything other than human these days unless she was at home.

Alpha Hale took an audible, obvious sniff. Celeste rolled her eyes. "If you wanted to avoid dog jokes, that was not the way to go about it." she teased

"You smell human." Alpha Hale replied, ignoring Celeste's baiting just the same as Celeste had ignored hers. Her tone was skeptical, like she didn't trust Celeste not to somehow have figured out a way to lie her way through a scent check. Which, okay, she totally _was_ hiding behind a glamour, but still. Alpha Hale had no real reason to suspect foul play.

"That still doesn't explain how you managed to adopt not one, but two werewolves. What're the chances of that?"

"Pretty great, when it's not actually a coincidence."

"Someone gave the pups to you?" Alpha Hale was suddenly intensely interested, taking a step into Celeste's space. She could smell her from this close, not actually all that remarkable--no soaps, no shampoos, no perfume--but at the same time having a unique, oaky scent that probably came from running through the woods all the time.

"Do you really see me going to an agency and asking for two boys? I'm only twenty-three."

The dye and bleaching hid the silvery wisps of hair at her temples brought on by stress and excessive use of her magic. She's pretty sure saving Isaac had shaved a few years off of her own life in addition to graying her hair, but she couldn't really bring herself to dwell on it when she saw his bright, smiling face every day.

"So they _are_ family, just not yours?" Laura questioned.

"I'm not sure I like what you're implying, Alpha Hale. They're just as much mine as your pack is yours."

"My apologies." Alpha Hale back tracked. "I only meant to clarify."

Celeste nodded, gaze just as falsely relaxed as ever. Her hands were still firmly in her pockets. "I'd love to share my family history over a nice herbal tea, but it's deeply personal. I'd rather not go into it." she said lightly.

The silent dismissal hung in the air between them.

"One last thing." Alpha Hale blurted out, seemingly as an afterthought. Her smooth, unmarred cheeks flooded with red at Celeste's teasing smirk. Alpha Hale ran a hand through her hair. "Please, meet my pack. Allow your pups--your boys," she corrected quickly at Celeste's raised eyebrow. "To run with mine on the next full moon. It'll be good for them to be surrounded by wolves during that time."

The next full moon was a little over two weeks away. Celeste knew how to handle her children, when to rope them in and when to give slack. They didn't need to be around other wolves at such a vulnerable time, senses heightened to the point of acute pain. Every emotion would be amplified, feeding into the primal part of them that wanted to hunt, to defend, to protect all at once. Being around strangers would do more harm than good. Celeste frowned, breaking her carefully neutral mask.

"I appreciate the gesture, Alpha Hale, but I've been handling full moons alone for some time now. I know what I'm doing, and I don't need help."

"They're in a new town." Alpha Hale pushed. "There's bound to be some issues with the new surroundings."

"I'll handle it, just as I've been doing." Celeste said curtly, frankly tired of debating over her kids. Alpha Hale had no claim to them, legally or as a wolf. No one did, besides Celeste, that is.

If she kept pushing, Celeste was going to have to push back, and that wouldn't be pretty for anyone involved. "Thank you."

Alpha Hale made a face like she wanted to protest but wisely didn't say anything. She nodded once, turning on a heel and leaving without a word.

Once Celeste was sure Alpha Hale was far enough away, she allowed herself one selfish, angry little puff of her energy, the equivalent of flexing a muscle. Her skin shimmered slightly. The magic was meeting a wall of glamour, unable to truly expand outwards.

She stared down at her bare arms, sighing deeply. There used to be time where she could show what she was without fear of retaliation or reprimand. Would there ever come a day where she could wear her tattoos proudly, instead of hiding the magical markings every day?

She didn't see that happening for herself.

As she locked the register for the night and got ready to leave, she told herself the thing she'd been forcing herself to say for a while now.

"I did the right thing."

Maybe one day she'd actually believe that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for coming back! I have a few chapters all written and ready to post each day, but after that, I'll probably slow down to updating on a weekly basis. Stick around for a while, and as always, let me know what you think.


	3. Everything's a mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always her fault, isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My writing tumblr is up and running! Check it out [here](http://honestfics.tumblr.com). Don't be a stranger.

Celeste could only brace herself for impact when Isaac came flying out of the front door. She dropped all of her bags and held her arms out. Tired, achy, and amused she watched as he leapt from the porch rocking a full beta shift.

Celeste swore she could feel the impact all the way in her bones when she caught him. Isaac had always been tall for his age, but he was getting heavy. They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs and laughter. Isaac was squirming on top of her, just careful enough to avoid nicking her with his claws.

She couldn’t even say this was a random occurrence. Usually Isaac was the calm one between himself and Liam, but he was known to be just as clingy when subjected to long stretches of separation. He did fine with Erica, but he could only be separated from Celeste for so long before he started getting antsy. He was used to going home with Celeste at the end of the day, but she’d sent him and Liam home with Erica early today.

Times like this made Celeste glad that her family lived out in the woods like this. Here, Isaac and Liam could be who they really were; they could roam and explore what it meant to be a Were without any prying eyes. Celeste could even practice here--to Erica’s chagrin. Speaking of…

Celeste leaned back, resting her head on the cold grass. Isaac blinked down at her with those warm honey eyes.

“Where’s Erica?” Celeste asked

Isaac rolled his eyes, huffing dramatically through his nose. “She went in her room when we got home. The door’s locked.”

A hot spark of irritation hit Celeste. She had locked herself in her room, huh. That meant that she had left Liam and Isaac alone for the better part of three hours.

“What about your brother?” Celeste asked calmly, trying to keep her anger out of her voice. Isaac was sensitive, and more than once he’d misunderstood someone’s anger and blamed himself for it. Celeste wanted to avoid that particular production today if she could help it.

Isaac’s head cocked to the side, more feline that lupine.

“Liam sat on the floor and started crying, so Erica let him in.” he said

What about Isaac, then? Celeste grit her teeth. “Why didn’t she let you in, too?”

Isaac’s bottom lip jutted out as he pouted. He sat up on Celeste’s midsection, crossing thin arms over a narrow chest. He glared at Celeste’s overalls.

“I told her that I was telling on her.” he grumbled

Ah. No sympathy for the snitch. That one was a typical bitch move that Celeste used to pull on Erica when they were younger; Celeste was familiar with it. Over the years, Celeste has slammed her door in Erica’s face too many times to count. Erica used to be a real crybaby, too. She’d always go running to their mom and get Celeste in trouble for it. While Isaac hadn’t been left completely alone, given that Erica was still in the house, anything could’ve happened and Erica wouldn’t be able to get to him immediately.

“I’ll go talk to her. Come on, help me up.” Celeste said

Isaac scrambled to get off of Celeste, probably eager to see Erica get yelled at. He had a fixation with being right, and he loved rubbing it in the faces of others. Celeste intended to break him of that eventually, but for now it was mostly funny. Isaac practically yanked Celeste to her feet in his haste. The show of strength wasn’t characteristic of a six year old; Celeste cast a quick glance over Isaac’s face and hands. She grinned.

“You didn’t shift.” Celeste said warmly

Isaac cracked a shy little smile at her before going around her to grab her bags. The little muscle man picked all of it up and led Celeste in. She shook her head, laughing as she followed him. Isaac was outspoken about many matters, and still so shy about others.

* * *

"Mama's home." Liam murmured, head lifting from Erica's chest

"Oh, shit."

"That's a bad word!"

* * *

“Erica Reyes.” Celeste bellowed upon entering the house.

When she got no answer, Celeste started for the stairs. After Alpha Hale had left the shop, Celeste had resolved not to take anyone else’s shit today. She’d already dealt with two members of what was shaping up to be a _really_ irritating pack. If Erica wanted to be melodramatic, then oh well. She knew Celeste’s limits, what she would and wouldn’t allow. She shouldn’t have even asked for that silverweed in the first place.

“I can pout too, you little brat!” Celeste yelled, emphasizing her words with loud stomps on the wooden stairs. “Did you really think it was okay to lock Isaac out?” Stomp. “When I get up there,” Stomp. “you are in so much trouble!”

Celeste could hear the sounds of muffled commotion the closer she got to the top of the staircase. She narrowed her eyes. What was that little shit up to? Celeste took the last few steps by twos and threes.

Her foot had only just reached the top step when Erica’s door flew open. Erica stepped out slowly, holding Liam out in front of herself like a human shield. He grinned at Celeste. Erica had probably told him that they were playing a game.

Erica glared at Celeste over the top of Liam’s head.

“Put the baby down.” Celeste warned

Erica scoffed. “So you can kick my ass? No thanks.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“I’m already in trouble. Might as well go for gold.”

“Erica…” Celeste said, voice low and threatening.

They were at an impasse in the middle of the hallway, Erica using her own brother to protect herself and Celeste unwilling to risk hurting Liam trying to get to Erica. Erica’s fingers flexed on Liam’s sides. One brow ticked up.

“This doesn’t have to end badly.” Erica placated. “I can put him down and you can go away.”

“You threw a fit in my shop and then came home and left a six year old alone until I got here.”

“A six year old _werewolf_ , Celeste. It’s not like Isaac could’ve actually gotten hurt, not for long anyways.”

“You would’ve left Liam alone too had he not started crying.” Celeste quipped

“Did Isaac snitch on me?” Erica yelped, indignant.

“You know he’s a mama’s boy.”

Celeste flexed her fingers, feeling magic ripple in her fingertips. She cut a quick glance at the long rug beneath both hers and Erica's feet. She could jump and yank the carpet out from under Erica, put the little brat on her ass. That’d give Celeste enough time to get to the end of the hallway before Erica could get up and run into her room.

“Oh don’t you _dare_.” Erica said breathlessly

Erica scrambled backwards, kicking the rug up roughly as she went until it was just a rucked up pile in front of her. Celeste gave Erica a mildly approving look. Erica was getting better at figuring out what someone was going to do before they did it. It would help her if she ever had to fight someone that was faster than she was.

“Just leave me alone, Celeste. You’re freaking out over nothing.” Erica huffed

Celeste crossed her arms over her chest. Fine. “Give me Liam now.”

“You won’t try anything?” Erica asked, suspicious

“If you don’t give me my son in the next three seconds Erica I swear-”

“Oh my God, Celeste, fine.”

Slowly, Erica lowered Liam until he was on his feet. She didn’t let him go though. She glared right into Celeste’s eyes, inching towards her door. Celeste raised both brows, a silent _I dare you._

“I’ll blow that door right off of its hinges if you even try to lock it.” Celeste said flatly

“Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” Erica asked snidely

Alpha Hale and her beta brother, Celeste thought darkly. She seriously wasn’t in the mood to deal with Erica’s “woe is me, the sky is falling” attitude right now. Celeste was approaching the end of her own fraying rope here. She was tired, she was angry, and she was fucking _hungry_ , okay. She should’ve been starting dinner already but no, Erica wanted to have a stupid little standoff instead of just taking a punishment like a woman.

“Liam.” Celeste said evenly. “Hold your breath.”

“What are you doing?” Erica hissed

As soon as Liam had covered his mouth and nose with his hands, cheeks puffed out, Celeste pointed a finger at him. Erica cried out in surprise when her brother suddenly disappeared from where he’d been just a moment ago.

Celeste watched Liam awkwardly waddle towards her, off balance due to the fact that he wasn’t using his arms to run. Teaching Liam how to hold his breath effectively without having to physically cover his mouth and nose was still a work in process, but at least they’d gotten the mechanics of it down.

“Good job, baby.” Celeste cooed, patting him on the head once as she ran past him. Her touch broke the enchantment, causing him to reappear again at the end of the hallway where Celeste had been. Erica screamed, scrambling backwards and falling over herself to get into her room.

Celeste was only a few inches off of the threshold of Erica’s room when Erica threw the door closed with a resounding slam. Celeste, unfortunately, had been too close, and the hardwood caught her right in the face.

She swallowed a curse as she stumbled backwards, cupping her throbbing nose. God damnit, that could've broken her nose. If she hadn’t jerked her head back when she saw the door coming, there would’ve been blood everywhere.

Celeste took a deep breath to calm her rising anger. Erica was taking her mood from bad to worse. Though she knew what would happen, Celeste jingled the doorknob. Locked. Of course. How original. She pressed a hand to the door.

“Let me in, Erica.” Celeste said slowly. “Don’t make this worse for yourself.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Erica’s voice was muffled, but it was still pretty clear, so she was probably just on the other side of the door.

Celeste sighed aloud. She cast a glance down the hall. Isaac and Liam were peeking at her from the staircase, just their heads visible. She huffed a laugh. She lived in a fucking circus.

It didn’t even bother her.

“I understand that I made you mad today.” Celeste conceded.

A beat of silence.

“I’m sorry that you’re having trouble in school, but I’m not sorry that I didn’t let you use magic to cheat your way around those problems.” she added

“You don’t understand.” Erica said roughly. “I’m not like you guys. Life doesn’t come easy for me.”

Celeste’s hand tightened into a fist against the door. _Celeste_ was the one that didn’t understand, huh. _She_ didn’t understand what it was like for life to be hard. Celeste had practically written the fucking book on _The Hard Knock Life_ , thanks. She hadn’t asked for _any_ of this.

She’d been out of college for less than a year before Erica and the boys were thrust into her arms. All of a sudden, she was forced to find a way to provide for an entire family of people, and she had to do it with a smile. Erica’s situation sucked, yes, but she wasn’t the only person in the world with problems.

“Nothing about this has been easy, Erica. Now I know that high school can be tough-”

“You graduated early.” Erica interrupted her

There it was again, Erica’s attitude, jabbing at Celeste’s nerves like a cattle prod. “You know what, _enough._ ” Celeste growled

Celeste’s hand moved to the doorknob. She dropped the glamour covering her hand. It felt like she had just thrust her hand into blessedly cold water; she watched as black rings formed at each of the joints on her hand. She caught a glance of the pitch black moon on her palm as it closed around the doorknob. From the moon snaked two black lines; antlers crawling around to meet at her wrist.

Celeste felt magic rolling through her hand as she twisted Erica’s doorknob, listening to the satisfying click of the lock unlatching. Erica yelped in surprise, barely getting out of the way in time to miss getting hit with the door as it was swung inwards. Celeste advanced on her sister. She ignored how Erica flinched away from her.

Celeste shoved Erica roughly, uncaring that Erica winced at the hot sting of residual magic in Celeste’s hand.

“Stop overreacting, Erica.” Celeste hissed. “You’re being a fucking brat.”

“Language.” Erica hissed bitterly, tone mocking. She shoved Celeste back.

“Isn’t that what you’re always saying to me?” She shoved Celeste again. Celeste stumbled backwards, tripping over own feet. “Always bossing me around, acting like you know everything. You’re not my _mom,_ Celeste. It’s not your job to get in my way all the time.”

Celeste clenched her jaw. That wasn’t fair; Mom had left Erica to her. What was she supposed to do, let her little sister run wild?

“I never claimed to be your parent, but I’m not going to put up with this attitude, not while I’m busting my ass working to keep a roof over your head.” Celeste quipped

“No one asked you to do that.”

Fucking brat, Celeste thought darkly. She could feel herself losing her grip on the glamour hiding her markings the angrier she got. It was fading away further and further up her left arm, revealing rune after rune in varying shades from stark reds to the richest of blacks.

Erica eyed the marks with the same look of curiosity and fear that she always did. Erica didn’t understand what Celeste was, not completely, so she dumbed it down with little words and superficial teasing. She didn’t want to be afraid of Celeste, but Celeste could understand how hard that must be.

It’s easy to fear the unknown.

Even though Celeste doesn’t wear a glamour at home, she still has to hide a large part of herself from her family. Liam doesn’t even seem to notice her tattoos, and Isaac hardly seems bothered by them anymore, but there’s still that thrum of uneasiness that goes through the house when she shows her small family her entire self.

“Calm down. Jesus.” Erica says, but her voice isn’t as strong as it had been a moment ago. She isn’t even looking Celeste in the eyes anymore. Her eyes are fixated on Celeste’s chest, like she expects the crow hidden beneath Celeste’s shirt to fly straight off of her skin and attack her.

“You know I’m not going to hurt you, Erica.” Celeste says quietly.

It stings a bit, that at the root of it all, Erica doesn’t seem to trust that Celeste has a firm grasp on her magic.

“I know that.” Erica says quickly, but there’s barely any bite behind her words.Celeste doesn’t have to read Erica’s aura to know she’s lying.

Celeste stuffed her hand into her pocket, hiding what she could from her sister’s eyes. It was useless though, because she could both see and feel that the glamour had receded up her arm already and was making its way across her chest. Celeste had never conditioned herself to be able to maintain a glamour for a full day; where was the need, when she didn’t need to wear one at home? She hadn’t been able to change her clothes before the glamour started fading today, though.

Celeste had long since taking to wearing long sleeves and high necked shirts in the house.

“I’m trying my best here, Erica, but I’m not going to sit here and let you blame me for everything that goes wrong. I pissed you off earlier because I didn’t let you have something that _you knew_ I wouldn’t have given you in the first place, and then you came home and bullied your brothers because you were mad at me. How is that right?” Celeste asked tightly.

Erica looked down. Her face was a mess of emotion. “I’m going to fall, Celeste. They’re all going to see me fall tomorrow and they’re going to laugh at me. I’m going to be humiliated.”

Celeste sighed, suddenly very, very tired. It was a residual, bone-deep exhaustion that never truly went away. Celeste could beat it back with smiles and laughter, playing with the boys and joking with Erica, but it would always be there. It was just out of reach, but always ready to remind her how easy it would be to lay down and never get back up.

At times like this, a mean, self centered part of Celeste liked to remind her that she could walk away if she wanted to. No one had actually believed that Celeste had the means or motivation to take care of three minors.

It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone if she left.

The stronger part of Celeste reminded her that while the people around Celeste wouldn’t be surprised, Erica, Isaac, and Liam sure as hell would. They were her family, and she’d drop everything for them as many times as it took. Family isn’t an obligation that she’s tied to; she chooses to do this. She _wants_ to be here.

It’s just hard, is all.

“I’m sorry, Erica.” Celeste said, a note of finality in her voice. “But it isn't going to be the end of the world.”

Erica’s head shot up, an argument on her lips, but Celeste clenched her jaw, glaring at her sister. She turned around and walked out of Erica’s room. Celeste wasn’t going to win this one. Arguing with Erica was an uphill battle; she’d get her next time.

Celeste pretended like she didn’t hear Erica scream that she hated it here. She kept striding towards the staircase, further and further away from Erica’s room. When Erica slammed her door, Celeste barely jumped. She could handle this. Being Erica’s guardian meant that she couldn’t be her friend all the time. Sometimes she would have to be the bad guy, the bearer of bad news.

“Come on, guys.” Celeste murmured to Liam and Isaac, who’d been at the top of the staircase the entire time, listening to Celeste and Erica get into it.

* * *

"Erica said a lot of bad words." Liam told Celeste

"So did I, buddy. Everyone makes mistakes."

* * *

They followed her down the stairs back to the main level quietly. She had to get it together, she scolded herself. They could smell emotions. “Are you guys hungry?” she asked, heading towards the kitchen.

“Can we have spaghetti?” Liam asked, voice gentle, the sweet boy. He was trying his best not to upset her when he hadn’t even done anything wrong.

“Of course we can.” Celeste said

Celeste reached down, running a hand through Isaac’s curls. He was trembling. Concern for him drummed up in her gut. She turned to face him. He was wringing the hem of his t shirt in his fists, face screwed up like he wanted to cry.

Oh, no.

Celeste dropped to her knees in front of him. He bit his lip, cheeks growing red in a feeble attempt to keep tears in.

“What’s wrong, Isaac?” Celeste asked

“I tattled on Erica, and now you’re sad.” he whispered, voice shaking. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, honey.” Celeste breathed, taking Isaac into her arms when he started to cry.

This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. Isaac was a product of her mother’s second marriage, one of her step-father’s sons. Celeste had never known the man, not really--she had been in college when Mom remarried--but from what Erica and the social workers had told her, he’d done a hell of a job raising Isaac.

Mom had died shortly after Isaac had come into her life, a product of one of her husband’s indiscretions. Isaac never got to know Celeste’s mother. Instead, Isaac’s father had blamed Isaac for everything wrong with his life. Isaac had grown up for quite some time-- _too long_ , Celeste always said--believing everything that vile man said.

“I’m not mad at you. It’s okay. Mama just gets sad sometimes, okay? It’s no one’s fault.”

Liam came over to wrap his arms around Isaac’s waist, scent marking his brother and nuzzling into his shirt. Celeste leaned back against the cabinets, lowering the three of them to the floor. She pulled Isaac so he was sitting sidesaddle in her lap, tucked securely under one arm.

Liam came around her other side to tuck himself under her arm. He tangled his legs with Isaac’s. Celeste laughed when Isaac gave Liam a playful kick.

“Mama, your eyes smell.” Liam told her

Celeste laughed again as a tear rolled down her face. She held her boys tight as she cried.

She did the right thing.


	4. It's just medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's damned if she does, damned if she doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry for stepping away for so long; I had a lot of work to do at my uni. Now that finals are over, I will be updating regularly.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

Celeste pushed through the horde of people in her way. She couldn’t see any ambulances. Where was Erica? The school had called her, told her that something had happened. Erica was fine, they assured her.

_It already passed, Miss Reyes._

Celeste could barely hear any of it. She’d rushed to get the boys into the jeep, shut down her shop a full five hours early. She dropped the keys twice before she could finally jam them into the ignition, she was shaking so bad. She knew she shouldn’t speed, not with two small children in her car at least, but Celeste couldn’t help going just a few miles over the limit. She felt like all of the air had gotten stuck in her chest and she couldn’t push it back out.

_You don’t understand. I’m going to fall._

Fucking damnit, why hadn’t Celeste done something? She could’ve called the school and gotten Erica excused, _something._ She hadn’t known Erica would have a seizure. Did she hit her head? Oh God, what if she’d bitten her tongue again? Celeste had been too young when that happened, barely a high schooler when her elementary-aged sister’s eyes glazed over. Erica had been completely unresponsive, writhing on the ground with blood pooling in her mouth. By then, Celeste understood that her sister was sick, but she’d never seen the extent of that sickness.

“Move, I said _move,_ goddamnit.” Celeste hissed

Celeste saw it happen before she even realized what she’d done. The crowd forcibly parted in the way that people move when they’re being pushed by something they didn’t see coming. She must’ve expelled magic on accident, raw energy strong enough to move several people. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to worry about the repercussions of doing something like that. She still didn’t know where Erica was.

Liam tucked his face into Celeste’s neck, fisting her t shirt in such a way that he was screwing the fabric behind her neck up a bit, choking her slightly. She ignored it. She’d rather have Liam clinging and shy than showing everyone just what a werewolf’s temper tantrum looks like. Isaac held Celeste’s free hand in a vice of a grip. Had her body been any less sturdy he probably would’ve broken a few bones. The boys were reacting to her stress. Again, she knew, but it wasn’t her main priority at the moment.

Celeste must’ve been quite the picture when she stormed into the main office, holding one boy with another by her side, hair a mess and clothes dirty. She’d been mopping up a mess of _something_ that Isaac had knocked over and decided to clean the entire store while she was at it. She’d sat Isaac in her stool behind the counter to keep him clear of the glass, while Liam had been in his playpen drowsily trying to figure out what had woken him up from his nap.

Everything had been so _mundane._

“I’m here for Erica Reyes.” Celeste said quickly, breathless.

The woman at the front desk’s changed quickly to suit the situation, morphing into an over-the-top expression of sympathy. Celeste grit her teeth. She didn’t need people feeling bad for her, she needed to know where her sister was.

“You must be her mother.” the woman started. “I’m so-”

“I’m her sister.” Celeste cut the woman off sharply. “Where is she?”

The woman seemed momentarily taken aback by Celeste’s curt attitude but quickly recovered. She straightened her frumpy cardigan.

“Erica was taken to Beacon Hills Memorial not too long ago. The EMTs on the scene thought it’d be best to take her somewhere where her condition could be stabilized.” she told Celeste.

Celeste felt hot, irrational anger churn low in her gut. They couldn’t have told her this shit over the phone?

The secretary must've seen something telling in Celeste’s face because in the next breath she was producing a clipboard and a pen for Celeste and clipping a piece of paper to it. Celeste let go of Isaac’s hand to accept the clipboard.

“It’s a sign out sheet.” the woman explained. “It’s just to confirm that you know what happened and you’re okay with us having turned Erica over to the medics.”

Celeste nudged Liam with her pointer finger. “Hold this for me, baby.” she murmured, offering the clipboard to him when he loosened his too-tight grip on her collar to peek at what she had. Wordlessly, he took the clipboard in both of his small hands and held it firm while Celeste signed the consent form.

“That’s a very obedient boy you’ve got there, Miss Reyes.”

Celeste jumped and would’ve dropped the clipboard to the floor had Isaac not surged forward to catch it for her. An elderly man was standing just beyond the secretary’s desk, clearly having just walked out of his office. The principal’s office, she noticed, taking in the writing on the window. Even from where he stood, Celeste could tell that he had a few inches on her. He seemed harmless enough, with his white hair and coffee-stained smile.

“Good reflexes on this one, too.” he joked

Celeste ran a shaking hand through Isaac’s hair. She was jumpy today; she really needed to get herself under control.

“Thank you, principal…” Celeste trailed off.

“Argent.” he supplied, “Principal Gerard Argent. I wish we could’ve met under lighter circumstances.”

If Celeste were any more impatient, she’d be bouncing foot to foot already. She wanted to leave, but she didn’t want to leave a bad impression with Erica’s principal. Celeste settled for nodding curtly.

“Nice to meet you. These are my boys, Isaac and Liam.” Celeste replied. “Thank you for calling me.”

“It’s such a shame when people are plagued by disease like your sister is. My condolences, Mrs. Reyes.” Principal Argent said gently

Despite his even, sincere tone, Celeste couldn’t help but be slightly offended. She didn’t like the words he had used to describe Erica. Her sister wasn’t _plagued_ by anything.

“ _Miss_ Reyes, thank you. Erica’s condition is a difficult one to live with, but we get by just fine.”

“I’m sure.” he said sincerely. He gestured to the boys. “I’m sure you could’ve left your sons in school. It’s quite early still.”

Okay, the nosy third degree was starting to get a little uncomfortable. Celeste took Isaac’s hand in hers.  “They’re homeschooled.” Celeste said flatly.

“Ah. How unconventional. Well, I’m sure you want to get to the hospital. I’m sorry to have held you up.”

Try being conventional when your kids are werewolves, Celeste thought sarcastically. She nodded again, bidding a stiff goodbye before hustling out of the office again.

* * *

"I don't think I like him very much." Isaac muttered

"You and me both, dude."

* * *

 

It was all Celeste could do not to run right up to the nurse’s station. She was already walking fast enough that Isaac, tall as he was was practically loping to match her stride. When the nurses saw her, she got that same damn look that the secretary had given her back at the high school. She hated it. It never got better no matter where she went; everyone always saw her as a drowning woman.

“My sister was admitted here not too long ago. Erica Reyes?” She asked

“If you take a seat, there will be a doctor to talk to you momentarily.” a nurse told her

“No. No, I don’t want to _take a seat._ My sister had a _seizure_ at school and I want to see her now.”

“Ma’am-”

“Did I stutter?” Celeste snapped. The nurse recoiled visibly at Celeste’s sharp tone. Celeste didn’t care. She’d had just about enough of people telling her what she could and couldn’t do concerning her family for today. She wasn’t going to wait anymore.

“I’m her family. Let me see my sister or god so help me-”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you, Miss Reyes.” a new voice said. Celeste jumped, surprised that someone had gotten so close without her noticing. The nurse in front of her was tan and probably in her mid thirties, wavy black hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She had a look on her face that said that she’d dealt with more than her fair share of ornery next-of-kin in her time. Celeste took a deep breath, muttering an insincere apology. The nurse ignored Celeste’s attitude.

“I’m Erica’s nurse. I need to talk to privately for a moment.” she said, giving pointed looks to Isaac and Liam. Celeste wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. It didn’t matter where she put Isaac and Liam, if they wanted to eavesdrop, they would. Celeste pursed her lips.

“There’s no one to watch them besides me.” she said flatly

“The other nurses are right there at their station. They can see the entire waiting room; trust me when I say that they can watch your boys for a few minutes.”

Celeste heaved a sigh. “Fine.” she said, turning around to lead the boys to an armchair. She let Isaac sit down before situating Liam in his lap. Liam was big enough to sit alone, sure, but right now he needed the contact. So did Isaac, even if he wasn’t as comfortable asking for it as Liam was. Celeste crouched down to their level, looking them square in the eyes.

“I know that sometimes you guys can’t help what you hear, but right now I need you to focus on something else.” Celeste whispered. “We passed a water fountain on the way in. Can you hear it?”

There was a beat of silence where both Liam and Isaac tipped their heads to the side. Celeste saw the exact moment the lightbulb went off behind their eyes.

“It’s humming.” Isaac told her.

“Like a cat.” Liam added

“Cats purr, stupid.”

“M’not stupid!”

“Hey, now.” Celeste said sternly. “None of the name calling. Focus on that humming until I come back to get you, okay? It’s important that you guys do this for me.”

After they gave their word (and Liam pinky promised) that they would listen to the water fountain and nothing else, Celeste stood up again and followed the nurse from before around a corner. Celeste had to consciously tell herself not to do something stupid like telegraph what she was feeling by crossing her arms over her chest or wring her hands. Instead, she put them in her pockets where the nurse couldn’t see her digging her nails into her palms.

“How long has Erica been off of her medication?” the nurse asked

It was as if Celeste had been punched in her gut. All air seemed to leave her at once, leaving her choking on her spit. _What?_ “She’s not.” Celeste choked out, clearing her throat. “She’s still taking her pills.”

“According to a tox screen, there wasn’t any medication in her blood.”

“Then she must’ve forgotten to take her medicine today.” Celeste argued.

“Miss Reyes.” The nurse pressed, voice stern. “Erica’s blood didn’t have one single trace of her medication. That only happens when someone repeatedly misses doses.”

“She wouldn’t do that. She knows better. There has to be a mistake.”

“There’s no mistake.” she said grimly. “Erica’s resting right now, but she’s awake if you want to talk to her. The doctor is going to tell you the same thing I just did.”

Celeste sighed. She could feel that bone deep exhaustion settling over her again, like an old blanket. She just couldn’t catch a break, could she? She thought she’d been doing good. For the first time in a while, Celeste had allowed herself to feel like she wasn’t a monumental fuck up. She’d thought that she’d finally, _finally_ gotten her family settled. How long had Erica been lying to her like this?

“Yeah. Yes, thank you.” Celeste said. “I’d like to see her.”

The nurse wordlessly led Celeste a little further back to a hallway of patient rooms. The over-sanitary scent of the corridor was nauseating. It must be hell on the boys, Celeste mused numbly, what with their heightened senses and all. They’d have to come back here to see Erica. God, if nothing else, Celeste was glad that her boys couldn’t catch regular human illnesses.

“She’s in there.” The nurse said, gesturing to the door behind her. “She’s been through a lot.”

Celeste didn’t like how the nurse’s tone was warning, like she was daring Celeste to give her a reason to keep her away from her own sister.

“You think I don’t know that?” Celeste said quietly.

The nurse looked like she wanted to say something else, but she just turned and started walking away. Finally alone, Celeste felt the full weight of the situation come down on her all at once. Celeste cupped a hand over her mouth to block a sob coming out. She leaned heavily against a wall, sagging to the floor. She pressed the back of her other hand over her eyes. She could feel the telltale burn coming, the familiar tightness in her throat.

No.

She couldn’t break down on the floor at the hospital. The last possible thing Celeste needed was someone calling Child Protective Services because she was an unfit parent. Celeste choked on a sob as she was taking her hands away from her face. She heaved a shaking breath, sucking snot back into her nose.

“I’m okay.” she lied

She heaved herself to her feet. She pulled her t shirt’s collar up to wipe her face. She took another deep breath. She couldn’t break down, she told herself again. She’s the strong one. She’s the adult.

Telling herself that didn’t stop her hand from shaking as she opened the door.

* * *

"I can hear Mama-"

"She said not to listen!"

* * *

Maybe she should've given Erica the silverweed, just for the wall and never again. At least then she wouldn't be in the hospital, looking so pale and _small_ , curled in on herself with her back to the door when Celeste came in. Celeste had felt physically sick when she saw a large bruise flowering the part of Erica's shoulder left exposed by the slipping hospital gown. She could have prevented this. She probably could have gotten rid of this fucking _disease_ altogether if she tried hard enough. But she couldn't, and she knew that.

There would always be retribution for tipping the balance.

"I'm sorry." Celeste had said, quiet and rough. "I--" she swallowed thickly, mouth dry. "I didn't know this would happen."

“You knew. I _told you_ this was going to happen. I told you, and you didn’t care.”

“It wasn’t like that and you know it, Erica. The balance-”

“I don’t _care_ about the stupid balance, Celeste!” Erica had snapped. Celeste winced at the sharp beeping of Erica’s vitals that her outburst had caused. “You were supposed to take my side for once. You were supposed to be my sister, not an all-powerful witch or _whatever the hell_ you even are.”

Celeste had masked the hurt she felt at being addressed as though she were scum with anger. “You can’t blame this on me, Erica. You’ve been off of your meds for god knows how long. Who’s to say that the lack of _actual medication_ to stabilize your condition didn’t cause this?”

“You know the side effects! I couldn’t keep taking them.”

“I’d rather have you upset about how the medicine made you look than have to pick you up from the hospital because, what? You didn’t want a little _acne?”_

"Get out." Erica had replied, sounding tired and resigned and so unlike her little sister that Celeste's words got caught in her throat. This was her fault. "Just leave, Celeste. Go home. They'll call you when it's time for me to be discharged."

Celeste had been so caught off guard by Erica’s clear submission that she’d just done as her sister said. She didn’t want to keep fighting anyway. Neither one of them would feel any better afterwards.

So Celeste let the boys say their hellos and give Erica gentle hugs and feather light kisses before reeling them back in, saying that Erica needed to rest. Liam opted for walking, both of them holding Celeste's shaking hands as she left the room.

Of course she didn't leave.

Instead, she had sat in the waiting room, seated heavily in a chair, crying as silently as she could while the boys played in the children's area off in the corner. Celeste bit her lip when her tears threatened to turn into gut wrenching sobs. She forced herself to take a deep breath, smothering her turmoil under a layer of that calm persona she wore so well these days.

"She's a strong girl." a woman said

Celeste jumped, slightly off put that she kept getting surprised by other people coming up on her all day. Usually she’d notice the second someone stepped into the room, far before they could get close enough to touch her.

The nurse from before was in front of her, staring down at Celeste with a look that she didn’t have the energy to piece through at the moment. Upon closer inspection, she actually had the faintest beginnings of laughter lines around her mouth and creases at the corners of her warm brown eyes. She was smiling down at Celeste, a small thing meant to reassure her. It was a far cry from the guarded, hard woman she’d shown Celeste not too long ago.

"Erica," the nurse clarified, as if that wasn't already obvious. "was in gym class with my son when she had the seizure."

Celeste nodded mutely. "Celeste Reyes. I'm Erica's sister, but you probably already knew that."

"Melissa McCall." the nurse said. She gestured to the open seat next to Celeste. "May I?"

Celeste waved her hand dismissively. "Go ahead." she said hollowly

Melissa sat down next to her, close enough to touch but thankfully refraining from doing so. Celeste didn't think she could handle physical contact, not when she felt like she was coming undone at the seams like this.

"Scott, my son, got the teachers to help her quickly. He made sure they didn't move her before the medics came, because-" Melissa started

Celeste cut her off. "It would've done more harm than good." she said dismissively. She'd heard it all countless times over the years. "That's not exactly news to me. This isn't the first time Erica's been in the hospital for this." she finished, flailing her hand out in the open air in favor of actually saying it. She didn't want to say it; it was already bad enough without actually voicing it aloud. Melissa picked up on it and wisely didn't bring Erica's condition up.

"Scott used to have asthma. It was bad; he'd have attacks just from doing laps at lacrosse practice. I didn't know what I was going to do." Melissa mused

"It went away, though." Celeste muttered, unable to hide the bitter note in her tone. "By medicine or magic or some kind of miracle, he's not sick anymore. My sister has to live with this for the rest of her life. She's in it for the long haul and there's nothing she can do about it. She could've _died_ today."

And there it was, out in the open. Celeste had been avoiding saying it because she had a bone deep fear gnawing at her. Her little sister could've died, ran the risk of dying every time she had a seizure. Celeste had all the ability in the world to fix it, but she _couldn't_. She couldn't play God, not even for her sister. She'd done it once and the bloodshed that had followed still haunted her to this day. But damn it if she didn't want to every single day. She'd give her health in exchange for Erica's if only there were a spell for that.

"She could've died." Celeste said, quieter, unable to stop the tears as they came again. She ground the heels of her hands into her eyes, fisting her hair. "My baby sister doesn't deserve to be held back like this. She's a good girl." At this point, Celeste wasn't sure if she was talking more to Melissa or to herself. "She doesn't deserve this." she said again.

Melissa had been quiet throughout Celeste's outburst, letting her get it off of her chest. She put her hand on Celeste's back, rubbing in big circles. The touch made her think of her mom, long dead, and that only made her cry harder.

She was didn’t like to admit it but she was close to drowning here, alone with three kids, two of whom had hardly known their parents, who called her Mama. She was up to her elbows in blood and for _what?_

Erica was still sick, was this much closer to death every time she had a seizure. Isaac had died, or would've had Celeste not forced him out of the Ether. Liam was the only one who hadn't been ruined while in her care. Celeste was a mess, hiding in her own skin, doing her best but falling short where it mattered.

"She's strong." Melissa said. "Erica isn't going to let this beat her."

"You sound so _sure."_ Celeste said bitterly, blinking back dots as she pulled her hands away from her face. She sniffed loudly.

"Because I am." Melissa said firmly. "She'll bounce back from this. She's young."

Celeste almost blurted out _How many times will she bounce back before her body quits on her?_ She only just held it in. She didn't want to put that kind of negativity out there. She had to believe Erica was going to pull through time and time again. Belief was one of the most fundamental factors of making things happen. She had to believe in Erica.

"Thank you." Celeste murmured, offering Melissa a watery smile. "Really."

Melissa smiled at her, bigger this time. "You're new in town, right?"

At Celeste's nod, Melissa picked up her discarded clipboard and pen, scrawling something down quickly before tearing off a corner of the paper attached to the board and handing it to Celeste. Celeste cast a glance down at the number in her hand. Melissa laughed a little. "It's my number. It won't bite."

Celeste struggled to pull together herself together enough to speak. "What am I supposed to do with it." she said flatly, not a question but far too curious to be a statement.

"Come over for dinner sometime. It'll give Erica a chance to talk to her classmates outside of school." Melissa said

Celeste looked down at the number with newfound focus.

Melissa was offering her a lifeline.

It made Celeste’s chest tight, struggling to think of a time when anyone had helped her without having some kind of ulterior motive. "You didn't have to..." she said quietly, awed by the sheer _truth_ of her own statement.

"I _wanted_ to." Melissa said wryly, winking at her. "I know a thing or two about being a single mom. Call me sooner rather than later, Celeste. I have to get back to work."

Celeste watched her go in stunned silence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for sticking around! Feel free to pop by my tumblr and ask a question or even request something. I'd love to see what kind of prompts you guys are thinking about. My writing tumblr can be found [here](http://honestfics.tumblr.com).


	5. Get the Hale out of my face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How come everyone knows her?

“I don’t like green stuff.” Isaac protested, reaching up to try to bat a bag of celery out of Celeste’s hand. She put her free hand on his forehead, holding him at bay while she tossed the food into their cart. He pushed against her with what was probably more strength than what was normal for a human boy his age, but Celeste wasn’t folding. If Isaac had his way, they’d never eat vegetables; the guy had some kind of vendetta against anything that was good for him. Liam watched on in amusement, loudly offering his opinion on celery. Surprise, surprise, he didn’t like it either.

“You’re just saying that because Isaac said it.” Celeste grunted.

“Am not!” Liam protested. “Green is not my color!”

Celeste snorted a laugh at that. Where the fuck did Liam even learn phrases like that? It felt like every time she turned her back, Liam was picking up more and more words, stringing them together based on how he heard other people use them. Just last week, he had rolled his eyes at the outfit Celeste had set out for him, huffing that yellow was  _ so _ last season. He was right, yellow was a little out of season for the fall, but regardless Celeste had just about pissed herself laughing at how offended Liam had looked just then, hands on his hips and a pout on his face. 

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not asking you to wear it.” Celeste joked. 

“It’s still yucky.” Isaac hissed, grabbing Celeste’s hand in both of his. He eased up with the pushing but didn’t let go, choosing  instead to follow Celeste like this, one hand holding hers and the other snaking up her sleeve, rubbing his scent into her pulse point. Liam scowled down at Isaac but made no move to stop his brother. Celeste was glad for it; Liam was fiercely jealous and she didn’t need him throwing a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket. 

The two boys were crawling up on their first full moon in Beacon Hills, in a new house surrounded by a forest that they hadn’t yet explored in its entirety. Celeste intended to go out with them on the night of the full moon and let them run. Despite being antsy due to the full moon being just around the corner, Isaac and Liam had been--more or less--model citizens. They’d been so good; they deserved some time to let loose. 

They’d all been doing well adjusting to living in a new place. The boys had settled right back into their homeschooling nicely, and Isaac was progressing by leaps and bounds. He was progressing through his first grade education faster than Celeste thought he would, and it was starting to look like he’d be starting his second grade reading in a few months. 

Liam, competitive as always, seemed like he was trying to  _ force  _ himself to be able to read. Celeste could tell that it frustrated him that he could write his name and knew the alphabet but still couldn’t read most words, let alone an entire story. Isaac, the sweet boy, stepped in when he could, reading to Liam whenever he finally caved and came to his brother, story book in hand.  

Erica was a sore spot. She’d withdrawn after she’d been discharged from the hospital. No matter what Celeste tried, Erica refused to interact with the rest of the family. Celeste told herself to ignore it, but it was trying. She could see her sister hurting, knew that ever since the accident she’d been having an even harder time at school, but Erica kept it all to herself. For several nights now, Celeste had told herself that this would run its course, and Erica would be no worse for wear afterwards.

Life would go on.

Around town, no one bothered her--well, no one supernatural at least. Celeste wasn’t blind or ignorant; though Beacon Hills had fewer supernaturals than where she’d lived before, the town wasn’t barren. This bunch seemed to be a different breed of people, more than happy to keep their lives secret. 

Before she’d moved her family here, it seemed like everyone and their banshee mother had wanted something from Celeste. Back then, she couldn’t go a full week without someone bursting into her shop, shoving money in her hands and asking for a consultation. While Celeste was mostly happy that she didn’t have to play town elder anymore, a small, nosy part of her was bummed that she no longer knew everyone's business. 

The humans, however, were just as overbearing as ever. It was all she could do not to yell at the women that walked straight up to her in town, wanting to see her kids. Isaac was a shy little thing, hiding behind her leg, clinging without clinging as usual. Liam absolutely hated the contact the strangers tried to impose on him, curling possessively around Celeste or making grabby hands if he wasn't already in her arms. Celeste took it all in stride, endlessly patient with the boys as they inched their way towards the full moon. 

That brief encounter with Melissa, in the hospital, had thrown Celeste through a loop, but she had called maybe a week or so later to schedule dinner for this Saturday. In response to Celeste’s reluctance to invite Melissa and her son into her house, they had decided that dinner would be held at Melissa's house, in town. Melissa had insisted that Celeste didn't need to bring anything, but Celeste was adamant about contributing in some way. 

That's how she found herself in the supermarket today, Isaac trailing behind her and Liam sitting in the buggy, playing with the hem of his cherry red jumpsuit (bright red paired with white cardigans were in season but yellow wasn’t,  _ sure  _ Liam), swinging his feet to admire his clear, glittery jellies. He had done his own hair today, two pigtails on either side of his head tied with matching red scrunchies. He had a few flyaways and the hair at the nape of his neck hung down a bit, but he had insisted that he’d done that on purpose so Celeste hadn’t fixed it for him. 

"Pretty." he giggled for the umpteenth time

Celeste kissed him on the temple yet again. "So pretty." she said automatically. 

Isaac, finally done with the tough guy act, tugged at Celeste's baggy work pants, beautiful blue eyes glinting up at her, a silent plea. She huffed a laugh, bending over to scoop Isaac up under his arms with a muttered 'upsadaisy' and deposit him the cart's carriage. She pretended like she didn’t see him give the celery a resentful little kick. They were on a mission for the ingredients to a blueberry pie. Celeste wanted to make a good impression on the McCalls, maybe get Erica a long term friend. 

Erica had stayed at home today, claiming illness. She could hardly stand to be in the same room as Celeste these days. Celeste took it all in stride, pretending like it was just teen angst so she wouldn't dwell on it for too long. She had to hold it together. 

Though Celeste wasn't looking, she definitely  _ felt _ it when Alpha Hale walked up on her. Everything in her sang to turn her exposed back away from the predator, to protect her kids, to defend herself. Celeste was sorely tempted to act like she hadn’t noticed Alpha Hale at all and keep walking, but she didn’t want to give the impression that she was retreating in any way, shape or form. 

The boys made uneasy little noises when Celeste turned to face Alpha Hale. It had been years since Liam had been in the presence of an alpha, and Isaac never had, not in any way that counted. Celeste shushed them gently, bidding them to be calm. It would do her no good to have them throwing tantrums and making Alpha Hale think she’d been right to overstep.

"Celeste." Alpha Hale said, her voice a warm thing, like she hadn't been trying to verbally put Celeste in a headlock just over a week ago. "I didn't know you went to this market."

Celeste didn't grimace, but it didn't feel like she was smiling either. "There's less than a handful in town, Alpha Hale. Pretty slim pickings."

Alpha Hale pushed her cart up right beside Celeste's. Hers was full of red meats and vegetables; Typical of a wolf, but it seemed like a bit much for an alpha whose pack was so meagre. Alpha Hale wasn't even trying to be discreet about staring at the boys either, eyes searching like she'd be able to find signs of abuse if she looked hard enough.

"You said you had two boys?" she said after a beat of silence. She was staring dead at Liam now, who scowled under the attention. Celeste ran a hand through the loose hairs at the nape of his neck.  He leaned into her grip, still glaring at Alpha Hale for all he was worth. Either he didn't care that she was an alpha, or, like Celeste, he had deemed her too weak to feel intimidated by. Celeste sorely hoped it was the latter.

"Liam is a boy." Celeste said shortly. "Is there a problem?"

Alpha Hale blinked, looking up at Celeste. "Oh." she said blankly. "My apologies."

Celeste shifted her footing, putting herself in position where she could snatch Alpha Hale quickly if she tried to touch either one of the boys. Alpha Hale noticed the gesture, left eyebrow ticking up, a silent  _ really? _ It must look ridiculous to her, a human squaring off with an alpha werewolf. Celeste didn't care. She knew that she could put Alpha Hale on her back if push came to shove.

"Alpha Hale," Celeste said slowly. "Was there anything you needed? Did you have a question about a book or plant? Maybe a relic of some sort?" she did her best to keep her tone light, as if she didn’t know that Alpha Hale was trying to pry into her life again. 

"No, but-"

Celeste cut her off. "I'm in a hurry, Alpha Hale. I'd love to stay and chat your gorgeous head off, but I don't have the time. You understand." Celeste said dismissively. "Say bye to the pushy lady, boys."

"Bye." Liam hissed

Isaac just gave Alpha Hale a blank stare as Celeste started walking off. They were both quietly rude, just like her. Celeste grinned at them. Even though they weren't hers biologically, they were definitely her sons. 

* * *

“Gorgeous?” Laura muttered

* * *

 

It was a few blessedly quiet moments before Celeste ran into someone again. This time, she was using the cart as  leverage to reach a higher shelf to get a bag of flour. Isaac was holding onto the back of her shirt, using werewolf strength to keep her steady. He hadn't even had to shift to exert it; She'd have to reward him for that later. 

Celeste had only just stepped down, flour in hand, when someone bowled straight into her. Off guard and off balance, Celeste hit the ground hard, back and head slapping noisily against the floor. It stung, sure, but it didn't pack the punch that it would've had she been a normal, breakable human. The noise, above all else was probably mildly traumatizing to the person that had knocked her over. Celeste herself was more stunned than anything, blinking owlishly to clear her swimming vision. She sat up slowly, hand on her head. Isaac and Liam were whining softly in the cart, trying to reach over to touch her.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention. I never really do; my brain was going a mile a minute and I was walking backwards, and...oh my god you're covered in flour. I am so sorry. Way to go, Stilinski.."

He babbled on and on, as Celeste stood and dusted herself off. ‘Covered’ was putting it lightly. The bag had all but exploded on impact; The flour was all down the front of her shirt, on her face, in her  _ hair _ . It was going to be disgusting cleaning it all off. She wiped most of the flour coating her hands on her jeans. "You're fine." she said lightly. More than anything, she was worried about the way the boy’s breathing was getting exceedingly choppy. "Accidents happen. Take a breath."

He did as he was told, taking a deep breath in, but choking on it as he blew out. His eyes were wide, focused on something behind Celeste. Celeste looked over her shoulder at whatever had caused it.

A man was walking up the aisle. His face was exasperated, angry, and more than a little embarrassed. He was tall, and even though he didn't appear to be carrying a weapon, he walked like a man used to wearing one. His gait was wide, shoulder width apart, arms giving a wider berth on the right side, like he was giving himself room to reach for a pistol. Celeste had encountered enough police in her life to know what they moved like.

"I'm so sorry." he started right off the bat once he was within earshot. "For my son." he added, gesturing to the pale, gangly boy that had knocked Celeste over. Celeste smiled easily, like she was sharing a joke with them. 

"It's okay. Worse happens when I let these two help make breakfast." she gestured to Isaac and Liam. Isaac gave her a look that said he felt about ten different kinds of betrayed at being exposed as a messy cook. 

The officer relaxed, giving Celeste a weary smile. "Your siblings?" he asked conversationally.

Celeste didn't even flinch, beyond used to the mistake. "My sons." she corrected lightly.

"Oh, sh-ow!" the boy hissed, jumping away from the officer, rubbing the arm that had clearly been pinched just a moment ago. Celeste laughed. The officer apologized again for his son. 

"He doesn't get out much." He said shortly, holding a hand out. "Sheriff John Stilinski. This menace is my son, Stiles." 

_ Sheriff _ , huh. She had better not get on his bad side, then. She didn’t need someone in a position of power breathing down her neck. Celeste shook his hand, noting the presence of a wedding band. "Celeste Reyes." she purposely didn't mention Liam or Isaac. She didn't want Sheriff Stilinski trying to interact with them. 

"Are you the new girl's mom?" Stiles blurted out. "The one that had a seizure in gym the other day-ow!" he grabbed his arm again, glaring at his dad. Sheriff Stilinski shot his son a warning look, one that promised punishment if he kept talking. 

_ "Erica,"  _ Celeste clarified pointedly, "has epilepsy. You have ADHD, is that right?"

Stiles blinked. "How did you know that?" he asked. Sheriff Stilinski looked just as curious. 

Celeste shrugged. Disorders did funny things to auras; Erica's, for example, gave violent little shudders every now and again, blatantly seizing. Stiles's aura was, for lack of a better term, vibrating around him. The show of pent up energy with no clear outlet was an obvious tell of ADHD. Celeste had come to notice and discern disorders and diseases based on auras to better help customers when they came into the shop looking for something to relieve their symptoms.

"I sell herbal remedies at my shop downtown, among other things." Celeste explained. "You're not the first person with ADHD I've seen. It's not all that hard to notice."

Sheriff Stilinski's face lit up. Celeste braced herself for the inevitable ‘aha’ moment that everyone always came to when talking to her. "You're the woman that lives off in the woods that everyone's been talking about."

There it is. "That's me."

"I thought you'd be older. The receptionist down at the station made you out to be a spinster with two cats." he joked.

"Is that so." Celeste laughed. "No wonder everyone stares at me when I go places. I don't fit the description."

"Not in the slightest." he chuckled. "I'm sorry again for my son. Is there any way we can make it up to you?" 

Stiles made a face at his dad, like he didn't know him, or didn't want to. Celeste bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She used to hate when her mom would be even remotely friendly with men; it was always mildly mortifying. 

"Come visit my shop sometime. I could always do with some foot traffic. You'll know it when you see it." Celeste hummed. 

"Will do. Nice to meet you, Miss Reyes."

"Celeste." she corrected warmly. "Call me Celeste."

* * *

“What the hell was that?!”

Sheriff Stilinski popped Stiles on the head.

* * *

 

Celeste had to pull Liam back every time he tried to dip his finger into the pie, wanting to taste the blueberries again. It was bad enough that Isaac had helped him get a hand into the mixing bowl while her back had been turned. He was hyper and his eyes kept shifting. His wolf was clearly hopped up on the same sugar rush that Liam was riding. Celeste sighed, picking him up and taking him back upstairs to change. 

She had a special set of clothes to be worn for when the boys had to go out in public but couldn't control the shift. Each article of clothing had glamour runes sewn into the tags, activated by Celeste when she needed them. Celeste pulled a large chest out of her closet, muttering a quick spell to unlock it. 

She stored a lot of the more volatile things of hers in the chest. It wasn't overly large, but it was deceptively deep. It had a false bottom, which was actually a pocket dimension but whatever, where Celeste hid her more dangerous ingredients and spellbooks. The top level--the one that looks like a regular chest when opened--was all enchanted clothing. Celeste sat back and let Liam rifle through the clothing on his side of the chest. 

He wanted to dress in "girl" clothes today, he'd made that much clear earlier. She helped him into a ruffled black sweater dress and a pair of bright red tights, the hussy. He put on his converse and tied them all by himself, grinning triumphantly at Celeste when he was done. She smacked a kiss on his forehead, pressing a hand to his back to activate the rune. She watched his skin shimmer. Instead of excited yellow eyes, she was staring into human green again. Celeste pulled his hair into a bun on top of his head, securing it with a big bow hair tie. 

"Erica, Isaac," she called. "Be downstairs in the next five minutes."

"Mama," Liam said quietly. "Is the mean man gonna be there?" 

Celeste wracked her brain, grinning when Derek Hale's grumpy ass face came to mind. She took Liam's hand, leading him back downstairs. "No, Grumpy Wolf isn't coming to dinner."

"He's a jerk." Liam spat. "He was mean to you."

"Yeah, I don't like him either." 

Downstairs, Celeste ran her hands over her arms like she was slicking off water. It never ceased to amaze how easily the tattoos disappeared, leaving behind bare, tan skin. Erica was staring blankly at her when she looked up. When Celeste smiled at her, Erica just turned and walked out to the car. 

Celeste ignored the pang in her chest at the clear rejection.

* * *

“I forgot my scarf!”

“Isaac, it’s not even that cold out.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My writing tumblr can be found [here](http://honestfics.tumblr.com). As always, let me know what you think. Send me a prompt, ask a question, talk to me!


	6. Pretending to not feel alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She could've sworn that navigating polite conversation had been way easier on TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't already clear, any chapter title that isn't a ~~horrible~~ pun is a song lyric. I may or may not have listened to said song on loop while writing that particular chapter. I'm not saying you have to go figure out the songs these lyrics are coming from, but for me, they usually set the tone of the chapter.

“I’m glad that everyone could make it tonight.” Laura hummed

Scott looked over at Boyd and Jackson. Lydia regularly refused to show up to pack meetings, her excuse being that they were a massive waste of time. No one quite knew what she was, and she was adamant that she didn’t want to know. Even Laura, scary as she was, knew better than to step up to the plate against Lydia Martin. It was a waste of time, since Lydia wouldn’t change her mind unless _she_ wanted to; Jackson had actually laughed when Laura suggested that he put his foot down with her.

 _“I only just became a werewolf, and that was_ after _your broken bite tried to turn me into a lizard monster. I’m not trying to die just because you want her here.” he’d scoffed_

The whole Kanima thing was still a sore subject amongst the pack. Peter, Derek and Laura’s creepy uncle had calmly explained that it wasn’t Laura’s bite that was broken. The thing that had been broken was Jackson himself, because if Laura’s bite simply hadn’t worked, he would’ve died. Instead, he mutated into something else entirely, something that the bestiary at Allison’s house had called a Kanima.

That had been a nightmare in and of itself.

“Stiles is at home?” Laura asked Scott

Derek rolled his eyes at the mention of Scott’s best friend, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. Scott frowned at him. Derek didn’t like Stiles. Like, at all. Scott knew that Stiles wasn’t outwardly the most cuddly person, but Derek was being ridiculous. His main reason for always wanting to keep Stiles as far away from was that Stiles was human, and therefore, fragile. He said that they didn’t need a liability in the way, someone that everyone would constantly have to be babysitting to make sure he didn’t get hurt.

Scott resented Derek big time for that one, but he resented Laura more for agreeing with her second in command. As Alpha, she had the right to keep whomever she didn’t want in her pack away. Scott didn’t like Laura; she had practically bitten him against his will, saying that he was better off this way. He’d been having an asthma attack, a bad one that had been caused by _Peter_ chasing him down in the woods, feral and wolfed out when Laura had appeared out of fucking nowhere and bit his wrist.

_“There.” Peter had said, sounding satisfied. He gestured to where Scott was writhing on the ground, trying--and failing--to suck air into his lungs. His hands scrabbled for his inhaler on the ground, but he couldn’t find it. He must’ve dropped it somewhere. “We need to rebuild our pack, and this is as good a place to start as any.”_

_“Uncle Peter, you-”_

_“Ah, not now, niece. The boy’s heart can only beat so fast before it stops. I’d get to it if I were you.”_ _  
_

So it wasn’t _completely_ Laura’s fault that Scott had been turned, but it _was_ on her for trying to keep Scott under her thumb all the time. She always wanted to know where everyone was, what they were doing...she had even made it clear in no uncertain terms that she wanted Scott to break up with Allison. Which, no. It wasn’t Allison’s fault that her aunt had been batshit crazy. Kate was dead now, anyways, so there wasn’t any real need to keep Scott away from Allison anymore.

Add exiling Stiles from the pack to that, and Scott wasn’t really rooting for his alpha. Laura had held him down and given him an alpha’s command that he wasn’t to bring Stiles around the pack anymore. Still, she was constantly paranoid that Scott had somehow managed to slip the leash.

“Scott.” Laura said sharply.

Scott made a face at her. “Oh my God, he’s not here. Do you see his car anywhere? Do you smell him anywhere but on my clothes? Let it go.”

“Watch your mouth, Scott.” Derek barked.

“Stay out of this, Derek.” Laura said evenly, putting an arm out to stop him from coming any closer to Scott. He’d already pushed off of the wall he’d been leaning up against, striding towards Scott with a look on his face that promised pain. Scott fought the urge to stick his tongue out at Derek like a little kid who had just won an arguement.

“Scott,” Laura tried again, tone much gentler. “I’m only doing what’s best for the pack. You know that.”

He didn’t say that he’d never asked to be part of her pack, that her family had _forced_ this onto him. That would just end with another shouting match and Scott seriously didn’t have time for that today. His mom had told him earlier that they were having guests over for dinner tonight, and that she didn’t want him to be late. He smelled food coming from the kitchen, where he could also smell Peter. Scott was surprised that Peter hadn’t come out just to give everyone bad touch vibes. Everyone but Boyd, that is.

Dude was a brick wall.

“You brought us out here for dinner?” Jackson butt in, sounding skeptical. “No offense, but I can afford to eat better than whatever you’ve got going in the next room.”

Laura quirked a brow at Jackson’s outburst. He didn’t cower, per say, but he didn’t exactly keep talking. She crossed her arms, eyeing the three of them with that look of veiled irritation she always wore around them.

“I invited a family friend over tonight, and she’s bringing a few of her betas with her.” Laura told them.

Wait.

“An alpha?” Boyd asked quietly

Out of everyone, Derek seemed to like Boyd best, but Scott thought that that had more to do with the fact that Boyd was quiet like him and didn’t cause conflict. Boyd was a path-of-least-resistance kind of guy. Laura smiled at them, but her eyes were distant.

“Satomi Ito is a longtime acquaintance of the Hale pack. I requested her presence tonight because I wanted her council.”

“On what?”

Laura paused, like she was contemplating whether she should tell them the truth or not. Scott didn’t like that about the Hales; they were always so guarded, keeping their cards close to their chests. They acted like letting people in on their secrets would be the end of the world.

Which, okay, it totally had been, but that had been one time.

“You all know the new girl at school, correct? Erica Reyes?” Laura asked.

Jackson sat back in chair, arms crossed, a satisfied smile coming over his face. Scott didn’t even want to know why he looked so smug. All Scott knew of the transfer student was that she’d had a seizure in gym last week, and he’d been the one to help her.

“What about her?” Scott asked, suspicious of Laura’s intentions. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she was trying to build her pack. He’d sooner tell Sheriff Stilinski what was going on and paint Derek and Laura as criminals _again_ than have them picking through BHH, turning whomever they wanted.

Laura put her hands up. “Calm down, Scott. This is about Erica’s guardian. Celeste Reyes came into Beacon Hills a few weeks ago with two Weres and hasn’t once tried to get in contact with me. When an Alpha has reign over a certain territory, anyone that isn’t human that’s coming in to that Alpha’s territory has to consult them, request permission to live there.”

“How do you know she’s not human?”

“She is. I checked myself. What I’m worried about is that Celeste Reyes seems to have an in depth understanding of Were law, even though her sons are allegedly the only Weres she’s ever encountered. She threatened Derek when he approached her, which doesn’t bode well for her.”

“And what do you want us to do about that?” Jackson grumbled. “We’re not exactly best friends with Erica. I know _I’m_ not.”

“That’s what Satomi is coming here for. She should be able to give council on how to proceed. She’s been around for a while, so if anyone knows the law, it’s going to be her.”

“Why can’t we just leave them alone?”

Scott ignored how everyone looked at him like he was stupid. He didn’t like the dynamic they had going here, that no matter what he said, he’d always be outnumbered. This was why he’d liked having Stiles around. He was the group’s voice of reason for when either Derek or Laura had their heads up their asses.

“It’ll set an example for anyone that wants to challenge me that I’m weak, Scott. My pack is small; reputation is a large part of what I’ve been using to protect us. If someone goes poking holes in that, then bigger, more dangerous threats than Celeste Reyes could arise. They won’t be hesitant to start something with the Hale pack. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Scott shot to his feet, snatching his backpack from where he’d dropped it when he first walked in. He flexed his fingers, willing claws away. God, when would they learn to not be so... _overbearing?_ How could they even live like that, willing to threaten and push someone who _hadn’t done anything_ around just to make an example to anyone else that wanted to step up to them? They were hyper-paranoid, the Hales, and Scott really wasn’t in the mood to put up with their shit.

“Where are you going?” Derek started, residual gruffness creeping into his tone.

“I already have plans for dinner.” Scott called over his shoulder. “Tell me your evil scheme later. I have to go.”

He made a point of slamming the door as he left.

* * *

“What’s for dinner?” Jackson asked.

Boyd gave him a look.

“What?”

* * *

 

"Glad you could make it," Melissa said warmly, stepping aside to let Celeste in.

Her house was nice, decorated with warm colors and wooden furniture. Smaller than Celeste's, but then again Melissa didn't have three kids like Celeste did. Celeste reigned in her curiosity and her wandering children, goading Liam back to her side with a lingering pat on the head. Isaac was clinging for real now, face scrunched up like he smelled something bad.

Celeste didn't sense anything off about the place when she focused, though. Maybe Melissa's son had pot in his room. The thought made Celeste bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Melissa took Celeste's pie to where she assumed was the dining room, returning with a big, motherly grin.

"You know Erica." Celeste said, gesturing to her sister, who pointedly ignored eye contact. She felt a pang of irritation but stamped it down. "This is Isaac, and the one that's currently trying to make a break for it is Liam."

Melissa laughed, bending over, hands on her knees, to look Liam in his eyes. "I love your dress, Liam." she said. "Did your mommy pick it for you?"

Liam shook his head, "I diddit all by myself." he said proudly

Celeste stared at Melissa over Liam's head. Usually, everyone assumed he was a girl and became uncomfortable when either he or Celeste corrected them. Celeste was used to being the weird mom, the one that everyone assumed was acting out a fantasy with her own child. No one saw it for it was; how could they?

You can’t exactly look at a boy and not only glean that he’s a Were, but also figure out that his wolf isn’t male.

Melissa though...she kept catching Celeste off guard. Melissa caught Celeste's eye and winked, smiling warmly. Celeste felt herself flushing, uncomfortable. She wasn’t used to this, having someone understand, or at least understanding what they could, given the situation.

"A friend of mine is here tonight, and he brought his son. Sheriff Stilinski?" Melissa added the last part quickly, seemingly as an afterthought.

Recognition made Celeste smile. "I met Sheriff Stilinski. Stiles ran me over in the supermarket yesterday."

Melissa laughed, looking equal parts fond and exasperated. "That boy is a ball of energy. I'm surprised you survived the encounter."

A ball of energy indeed, Celeste mused.

Melissa led everyone to the dining room, where Sheriff Stilinski and Stiles were very animatedly talking about the weather. Celeste quirked her brow. For an officer, Sheriff Stilinski was bad at covering for himself. A+ to Stiles for really committing, though. The boy was a well of knowledge, spilling over with nervous little tidbits every few seconds. Celeste didn’t comment on the lack of a place setting for his wife. He hadn’t mentioned her, not even once.

Curiously, Celeste took a quick peek into Sheriff Stilinski’s aura. It was healthy for the most part--he probably had cholesterol issues, since the color was a little murky around his heart. Not enough to be concerning, but it was definitely there. She hid a sympathetic frown when she saw a telltale strip of black around his ring finger, circling the wedding band.

Ah. A widower.

Liam very adamantly demanded a seat next to Celeste, forcing Isaac to sit between Stiles and Erica. Isaac shot him a dirty look for that one. Sheriff Stilinski and Melissa sat at the head of the table on either end, very clearly the points of authority. Celeste pretended like she didn't notice the empty seat next to her, where Melissa's son was supposed to be.

Erica was staring at Stiles inconspicuously, but staring is staring. Conversation flowed seamlessly between the six of them--Liam was always eager to speak and Isaac was slowly warming up to Melissa and the Stilinskis--but Erica was transfixed with Stiles. She didn't contribute to conversation, not that she really had to, what with Stiles speaking enough for everyone. Celeste bit back a grin. She could work with this.

"Stiles." Celeste interjected, smiling when his flailing arms froze, big Bambi eyes curious. Erica looked up sharply, eyeing Celeste in a way that promised sweet, sweet pain. "You mentioned chemistry. How's that?"

Stiles shrugged, leaning forward in his seat. "I like it, I guess, but Harris, he's my teacher, is a total assho-ow!" he hissed, glaring at his dad. Sheriff Stilinski regarded him innocently, as if he hadn’t just pinched his son’s thigh under the table. Stiles noticed Liam and rubbed his neck sheepishly. "He's not a fun guy to be around. Pretty sure he hates me."

"He does not hate you." Sheriff Stilinski groaned. "You can't even sit still for more than two minutes. It would drive anyone crazy."

"He gave me a detention for answering a question!" Stiles exclaimed.

"He told me that you went on a tangent about the institution of high school and unnecessary teaching." Sheriff Stilinski quipped dryly.

Celeste laughed. "That kind of passion is what high schoolers need, Sheriff Stilinski. It's rare these days."

Stiles flailed his arms at his dad, bringing a loud laugh from Liam and a tiny smile from Isaac. Even Erica was trying to hide a smile in her long locks. "See, Dad? _Passion_. I have that. I'm a passionate guy."

“Passionate, huh.” Sheriff Stilinski chuffed.

"Erica's having a little bit of a hard time with chem, you know." Celeste added smoothly, ignoring Erica's gape mouthed shock. "I'm a little embarrassed to say that I don't know how to help her most times. It wasn't too long ago that I was in high school too, but apparently it was long enough to forget certain things."

That was a blatant lie and Erica knew it. Celeste had graduated with honors. She glared at Celeste but quickly smothered it when Stiles finally turned his body to face her fully. She blinked a few times, jaw working. Nervous tick.

"I could, um, help if you need it? I mean, like, after lacrosse practice or on the weekends, you know. It's pretty easy stuff. I mean, not _easy,_ easy, since you're not doing too good. Not that you're not doing good! You're probably doing fine and just need a few refreshers-"

"He'd be glad to help you." Melissa cut in.

"Yeah." Stiles added lamely. "That."

Erica looked at her lap, nodding once. "Thanks." she mumbled.

Liam tapped Celeste's arm. "Mama." he stage whispered, beckoning her down with a flailing hand. Looks like Stiles was already rubbing off on her kids. She leaned in so he could cup his hand at her ear. "Someone's at the door." he told her.

A handful of seconds later, the front door opened. There was a series of noises that made absolutely no sense, since Celeste could only sense one person in the other room. There was no way one person made _that_ much noise.

Sure enough though, a tan hispanic boy with excited brown eyes and floppy brown hair came into the dining room, pulling out his chair loudly and plopping down next to Celeste. Celeste almost missed his aura, it was so slight. Well, not _slight_ . It was pretty noticeable, but it was so goddamn _gentle_ that it didn’t read as a wolf.

It wasn’t even yellow, not really. Betas usually had an either yellow or blue aura, depending on if they had ever taken an innocent life. Now omegas, they were always blue no matter what. Scott’s aura was so pure and light that it almost read as human, and a young human at that. A child. A pup. That’s what Scott was. She doubted that he was the fighting type, so that _had_ to pose some kind of issue with his wolf, at the very least on full moons.

Scott did a noticeable double take when he saw Erica. Something Celeste couldn’t quite name passed over his face as he looked around the table, eyes finally landing on Celeste. She offered him an easy smile. It must be weird, seeing the girl that had been rushed to the hospital just last week in your house. Melissa probably hadn’t told him who was coming over tonight.

“I’m Celeste Reyes. Nice to meet you.” she said warmly.

Scott fumbled for a second before offering a her a big, goofy smile. “Sorry I’m late. Don’t have a car.”

Celeste cast a glance to her sons to make sure they were behaving. Isaac was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to keep from staring at Scott but failing miserably, looking up from his food every few seconds. Liam was openly staring at Scott, one hand on Celeste’s thigh like he was contemplating crawling across her lap to get to him.

Celeste cleared her throat. “Liam’s been chugging apple juice like a champ all night.” she said offhandedly, earning laughs from Melissa and John. “I think it’s time for a potty break. Melissa, the bathroom?”

Melissa gestured to the staircase. “Right around the stairs, down the hallway on your right. Second door.”

Celeste nodded, scooping Liam into her arms before Scott could notice that the toddler had started making a break for him. She grinned at everyone, beckoning Isaac over too. “You want to come too, sweetie?”

Isaac shot one last glance at Scott before reluctantly getting up and leaving the table. His hand folded into Celeste’s. He nuzzled into her thigh regardless of his initial reluctance. Celeste followed Melissa’s directions to the downstairs bathroom.

She shut the door behind her with an audible click. She put a hand in the air, casting a muting spell over the space. Most magic works with intent alone, and this was no different. If she focused on silence and silencing a space hard enough, it generally happened. An exception would be if she wanted everyone to be quiet, but wasn’t actually intent on making it happen. Celeste took a seat on the edge of the tub, staring expectantly at the boys.

“Something you want to tell me?” Celeste asked, quirking a brow

“He’s a woof!” Liam explained. Not for the first time, Celeste was glad she could soundproof entire rooms at will. Liam wasn’t the best at using his inside voice. “Smells different, but not bad.”

“He doesn’t smell like me or Liam.” Isaac added. “Not a beta.”

Celeste shook her head. “He’s a beta. I saw it. He’s just a little different.”

“Is his alpha a meanie?” Liam asked, full of curious indignation. Celeste laughed, running her hands over his cheeks. That was an idea. If Scott had been turned against his will, then that would explain why his aura was still reading as (mostly) human. It was possible that Scott was resisting whomever had decided that they were his alpha. Celeste could understand that, she thought somberly.

Having someone lord their power over you and having an alpha were two completely different things.

“Maybe.” Celeste said finally. “But neither one of you are going to ask about his wolf or show him what you are. He’s not like Grumpy McEyebrows or the rude alpha lady. I don’t think that Scott can tell what you guys are wolves, too.” With an aura as docile and fresh as Scott’s, he wouldn’t be much better at picking apart scents than Isaac and Liam. “And if someone doesn’t already know you’re a wolf?” she added, tone expectant.

This was a line she had been trying to get the boys to instill in themselves. It was all too important for them to live in secret--at least in public--if they wished to truly have a fresh start. Isaac licked his lips. “We keep it that way.” he said firmly.

He didn’t talk about it often, but the memory of The Attack was still there. He didn’t want to be hurt like that again, and he’d do anything to prevent it. That’s why he clung so closely to Celeste. He knew she would always protect him.

“That’s right. You hear that, Liam? If you want to talk to Scott, no telling him what you are. That’s our secret.”

“Our secret.” Liam repeated, saluting Celeste adorably, back arched. “Got it, Mama.”

“Atta boy.” Celeste laughed. “Now have a potty break like I told Melissa you would. Isaac, if you don’t have to go, wash your hands and wait in the hall.”

Isaac did as he was told. Celeste helped Liam do his business and wash his hands before dropping the soundproofing spell and flushing the toilet. That would be something for Scott to hear, even if the adults didn’t. It was meant to draw suspicion away from why they’d been in the bathroom so long with no noise.

Celeste could play the part of a human. She knew this.

Erica was timidly engaging in conversation with the boys when she got back, aided by ample prompting from Melissa and Sheriff Stilinski. Celeste took her seat and dove back into her surroundings.

They were nice people, these two families. It made Celeste wonder how Scott kept being a wolf hidden so easily. Maybe, Celeste thought, he wasn’t hiding it all; maybe he was playing human for her family just as much as hers was playing human for everyone else. It made sense.

After a while even Isaac started adding into conversation in earnest, if only with laughs and smiles. It was a big step for him, being comfortable around so many people at once. He rarely had issues with it anymore, but he was claustrophobic. While it mostly applied to tight spaces, crowded settings had been known to upset him too.

Celeste let Liam crawl into her lap so he could strike up a conversation with Scott. Scott’s face lit up, a genuine grin lighting his features. Liam tucked his face into Celeste’s chest, hiding a smile.

“What’s up?” Scott asked. “Don’t get all shy on me now. You crawled all the way across your mommy’s lap for this.” His voice was firm, but his grin gave him away. Celeste rubbed Liam’s back.

“Go on, baby.” Celeste murmured

Liam peeked out at Scott, hands mostly covering his face. “Do you think I’m pretty?” he mumbled. His usually fair skin was bright red, spreading down the back of his neck. Scott grinned at Liam.

“I like your dress, and your bow is really cute.” Scott replied. “You look like a princess.”

“Really?” Liam asked skeptically. That made Celeste’s chest ache. She tried to reinforce the belief that Liam was whatever he wanted to be, and he would always be perfect to her. It made her so angry when other adults told her that he _had_ to be one way or another. He didn’t have to choose. He was a boy that liked what he liked. There should never be a problem with that.

“Really.” Scott said solemnly.

“I’m a boy.” Liam blurted out.

There was a moment where it seemed like everyone was staring at Celeste and Liam. She hadn’t outright told Sheriff Stilinski that Liam wasn’t a girl, and it seemed like Melissa had just gone with the thought that Liam believed himself to be a girl. Liam knew he was a boy, _wanted_ to be a boy, and probably liked boys if Celeste’s hunch was right. He was entirely male.

His wolf was the female one.

Scott blinked for a moment, eyes big and confused. There was an impressive amount of gaping before he recovered, smile maybe a bit smaller but no less bright. “That’s awesome. I wished I looked good in a dress but my legs are too hairy.”

Celeste breathed a sigh of relief into Liam’s hair.  Liam giggled, going red once more. Hesitantly, he held his hands out to Scott. This was a first. She’d never seen Liam be held by anyone but family.

Scott held his much larger hands out, and after getting a nod of encouragement from Celeste, reached out and tucked his hands in Liam’s armpits, helping Liam into his lap. Liam sat straddling Scott, hands on his shoulders as he stared at him. He smiled shyly. “You’re pretty, too.” he told him

“Thanks, buddy.” Scott laughed

There was a moment where Celeste could practically _feel_ Melissa and Sheriff Stilinski’s hearts melting. It was a warming sight, seeing Liam react with such comfort and confidence to someone who had been a stranger just moments ago. Especially a wolf, Celeste added mentally, when Liam’s IED usually kept him from working well with others.

It wasn’t unusual for a werewolf to have anger issues, but Liam was different. He didn’t just get angry; he often went into full blown rage that could only be calmed by Celeste physically holding him down and forcing him to shift back, either with stern words or magic, whichever came easiest. Liam had hurt Erica pretty bad, once, when she had tried to break up an altercation between him and Isaac. It hadn’t been pretty.

Erica still has the scar on her left side to prove it.

“I’ve never seen you guys around town.” Sheriff Stilinski started, none too subtle to Celeste, who was familiar with this line of question. She shrugged, a small, calculated smile forming.

“We don’t live in Beacon Hills. I told you that earlier.” She said normally

“So do you just stay to your shop when you’re working? Where do the boys go?” he asked. Stiles groaned, but Sheriff Stilinski ignored him. It wasn’t unusual for the Sheriff to want to get to know the people coming in and out of his town. Celeste respected the inquiries of human law enforcement a lot more than she respected an alpha werewolf that seemed to be making up exceptions to the rules as she went.

“The boys, and Erica for that matter, work in the shop with me. There isn’t much a three year old can do, so Liam usually stays in his playpen. Isaac shelves books, and Erica handles the items dealing in horticulture.” Celeste explained

Sheriff Stilinski made a comically impressed face. “You don’t need any extra workers? A small child and one teenager are enough?”

Erica shot Sheriff Stilinski a look but stayed otherwise passive. Celeste was glad that her sister hadn’t gone off and said something she’d regret. Impulse control wasn’t one of Erica’s strong suits. Celeste nodded, laughing to herself.

“I set my own hours, Sheriff; I don’t bite off more than I can chew. So yes, I’m just fine with the help I currently have.”

“You can’t expect a brand new store to be making any kind of revenue with the short hours you must be keeping.”

That was a jab. Celeste saw it, recognized it for what it was, but didn’t rise to it. She was calm, unassuming, docile. She was human.

She repeated that lie to herself a few more times to calm her nerves.

“Dad.” Stiles said sharply.

“I didn’t mean to offend.” Sheriff Stilinski backtracked. Celeste didn’t have to be a wolf to see the half lie for what it was. He wanted a straight answer from Celeste, and wasn’t all that concerned if he offended her trying to get it. “Just curious.” he added.

Celeste didn’t cross her arms like she wanted to. That was a defensive signal that she didn’t need to be sending out to the town’s Sheriff. Instead, she put her hands in her lap and straightened her posture. If he wanted the layout of how she ran her business, fine.

“The store itself isn’t the only thing bringing in the bulk of the money.” Celeste said dryly. “I wouldn’t be able to live off in the woods by myself and comfortably raise three kids on the sales that my tiny occult store accumulates.”

Celeste cast a glance around the table, seeing that she had effectively captured everyone’s attention. Erica, who knew her sales pitch, leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Celeste wanted to stick her tongue out at the bratty gesture.

“I have a master’s degree in ancient languages and a bachelor’s in anthropology. I translate texts as my main source of income. It pays well, being one of few who can decode dead or forgotten languages.” Celeste said

Stiles’s face scrunched up. “How do you have a master’s? How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-three.” Celeste said normally. “I was just studious.”

“What does that even-”

“She never came home.” Erica cut in, voice bitter. Everyone around the table stopped talking to hear her out, since she’d hardly spoken all night. Celeste tried sending Erica hostage signals with her eyes, silent ‘shut the fuck up’s, but Erica plowed right on.

“She left for college a year early and didn’t come home in the summer, or for any of the other breaks. She lived at Berkeley for three years, and after that, Georgetown for two. She had scholarships and grants, so she never needed money. We were _so_ proud of her.”

Celeste didn’t think anyone missed how bitter Erica’s tone was.

The entire room filled with a palpable tension. Celeste pursed her lips. As always, Erica had followed her first impulse, not thinking about what would happen following her outburst. Erica had never exploded like this, not on such a careless scale.

She had never really told Celeste about how it had been when she was away, but Celeste hadn’t known that Erica had been harboring resentment that strong. While the part of her that was Erica’s sister felt for her, the adult in Celeste, the legal guardian, was _pissed._ She’d chosen a fine time to give Celeste a piece of her mind. Everyone looked uncomfortable. Erica scowled, sinking further into her seat.

“That’s how she has two degrees.” Erica said flippantly. “You wanted to know. She started college at seventeen and jumped ahead in all of her classes each summer. She got her bachelor’s halfway through junior year and then turned around and went to get a master’s.” Erica groused

“There you have it.” Celeste said brightly, as if Erica hadn’t showed her ass just now. “I took some time to really focus on my studies and put myself on an accelerated course for graduation. It was hard, being away for so long--don’t get me wrong--”she cut a sharp glance at Erica. “-but it paid off. I can provide for my family and live in relative silence without stepping outside of my means.”

Sheriff Stilinski nodded, still looking wary from Erica’s outburst. “Sounds like a handful.” he said.

“What kind of languages do you see most commonly?” Melissa chimed in, very obviously trying to disperse the tension by offering a lifeline. Celeste took it, grateful for the help.

“Celtic is a popular one these days, but usually it’s Greek or Latin. Most people know enough to get a very rough understanding of what they’re reading, but if they want it laid out in plain English, I’m your girl.”

“What kind of books do you translate?” Scott asked, bouncing Liam on his knee as he spoke.

Celeste shrugged. “It’s not always books. The older the text, the more likely it’s going to be on parchment, rolled up in a scroll. Either way, you have to be careful with it. I wear special gloves to touch things, and even then, I try not to actually put my hands on anything. I have a magnifying glass if I need it.”

“So, like, things for exhibits?” Stiles asked curiously. “Do you work for museums at all?”

“Not often, but if the resident professors and doctors can’t figure it out themselves...yes, I am occasionally used as a resource by those kinds of institutions. More often, Stiles, I go to back to my alma maters if they need someone to sit in with a TA.”

“You’re a sub?”

Celeste laughed, drawing an embarrassed blush from Stiles. It made his pale cheeks splotchy with color. Erica shot Celeste a mean little look, face scrunched. Celeste took a moment to focus on Erica’s aura.

It was cloudy towards the center, near her heart.

Celeste pursed her lips. It had taken a while to be able to discern tiny emotions like jealousy, but Celeste had finally figured it out. So, Erica was jealous that Celeste was talking to Stiles. Celeste was a grown ass woman; she wouldn’t be coming after a hyperactive sixteen year old boy any time soon. Celeste gave Erica an assessing look, one that said _really?_ Erica scowled at Celeste. She knew what Celeste was looking at, that Celeste knew exactly what Erica was thinking.

Resolutely, Celeste redirected her attention to Stiles. She smiled at him. “It takes a little more than basic skill to sit in as an interim professor, Stiles. It’s not like high school, where I could probably comfortably teach the world history class at your school for the rest of the year. Unlike the subs you’ve encountered, I am not, for all intents and purposes, a baby sitter paid to watch over upwards of two hundred students. I am given a lesson plan and told to structure a lecture accordingly.” she finished, slightly embarrassed that she had stepped up onto a soapbox, but not entirely upset for getting her point across. Sheriff Stilinski laughed openly at Stiles’s dumbstruck look.

It’s a pain, though, teaching undergrads. Due to the fact that she, herself, was basically fresh out of college, she was mostly given 100-level anthropology classes. It had started out as a favor to one of her favorite professors, who promised that he wouldn’t do it again, that he’d write her a recommendation letter to Georgetown if she helped him out. He’d had a marriage counseling session that he’d completely forgotten had been scheduled. She was a junior at the time, technically, working on her applications to grad school since she was on track to graduate that year.

She’d been young and hungry. What was she going to do, say “No thanks, sorry, this is actually against several rules”? Of course not; she needed that goddamn recommendation. His TA was out sick, and at the time, she’d stuck to that professor like a second skin, going to his office hours every day because she could. He was a cool guy and smart beyond his age; she couldn’t help wanting to be around someone like that. Off the record, she used to help him grade papers and tests when his TA wasn’t moving fast enough.

_“You’re practically my TA already. Please, Celeste. I won’t tell anyone you did this. You won’t get in any trouble, I can assure you.”_

_“Professor Emery, I swear to God if any of this comes back on me-”_

_“Be calm. Now, please; I’m already late. I’ll tell my wife I got lost.”_

_Celeste couldn’t help the surprised laugh she let out. “You’re a horrible person. Get out of here.”_

After that, word had spread that there was a capable student willing to do unpaid TA work in exchange for recommendation letters. It wasn’t actually all that hard to get into grad school, what with so many names backing her.

At this point, Celeste was slightly more qualified than a TA, but had no desire to go and get a teaching license. She was fine with how she was, a freelance associate called in only when one of her unis absolutely needed someone. The only issue that Celeste constantly has is with the students themselves. They don’t believe a lick of what she’s saying since she’s so close to them in age.

She tries not to teach if she can help it, but money talks.

“Maybe Stiles should sit in on one of your lectures. He gets bored easily with his high school work anyways.” Sheriff Stilinski chuckled, wiping his eye.

“Dad!” Stiles hissed. “I do not-”

“I’ll let you know the next time I’m headed that way.” Celeste interrupted. “I’m sure the other TA won’t mind having someone there to do their grunt work.”

“Wait, really?” Stiles blurted out. Sheriff Stilinski was wearing a similarly baffled expression. Melissa hid a laugh by feigning a cough.

“I’d never turn down someone willing to learn.” Celeste said seriously. “I was serious when I said I wanted you guys to visit my shop. There are tons of things in there that I’m confident you would find interesting. I’m sure Erica wouldn't mind showing you around.”

And there it was, the segue back to the original goal. Celeste liked Melissa and Sheriff Stilinski just fine, but this dinner wasn’t about her. She was trying to get Erica acquainted with her peers.

Erica needed more friends than Celeste did. Celeste didn’t feel that pull for interpersonal relations like Erica and the boys did. She had her family, her craft, and the earth around her house. That was perfect. Her kind were nomadic by nature, and Celeste was no different. She could be comfortable in one place, yes, but without an anchor she’d wander. Her family was her anchor. Before she’d taken them in, she’d been well into her first few months of travel.

One phone call had her running to the nearest airport. She needed to go back to the states. Erica was in trouble. The little ones didn’t have parents.

“That’d be cool.” Stiles stuttered, trying to hide his slip with feigned casualness. Erica nodded, smiling around a bite of Celeste’s pie. Celeste sat back in her chair once more, pleased. If Erica didn’t want to come to Celeste anymore...well, that really sucked, but hopefully this would end with her having someone else to talk to. Her sister needed friends.

* * *

“Do you have a crush on Stiles’s daddy?” Isaac asked normally

Melissa choked on Celeste’s pie.

* * *

 

Celeste accepted Melissa’s hug, smiling genuinely when they pulled away. Melissa had made sure that Celeste and the Stilinskis had left with a generous amount of the leftovers split between them. Stiles had fussed about it, something about his dad’s health and how he couldn't eat these kinds of things for days on end. Sheriff Stilinski had ignored Stiles and took as much as Melissa would allow him to. Celeste had gratefully accepted the food. With two werewolves and a growing teenage girl, she needed all the pre-cooked food she could take. This way, she could pull all nighters in her office for at least a few days before she had to actually commit time to dinner.

“Thanks, for tonight.” Celeste said seriously. “We haven’t really been invited to these kinds of things since we moved here.”

Melissa waved her off, brows drawn up. “It’s really no problem. Erica and the boys seemed like they were having a good time so that’s all that matters.”

“I really appreciate this. Thanks again.” Celeste couldn’t stop herself from saying. She wasn’t used to people looking out for her and her family. She had been fighting so hard just to have the chance at a normal life for the kids. Erica seemed to resent her deep down for that, but it was _working._ Damn it, it was working.

“Don’t be a stranger.” Melissa said as Celeste was walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter! Sorry about that, but I couldn't find any good places to cut it in half and I wanted to put a good chunk of background in this chapter.
> 
> My writing tumblr can be found [here](http://honestfics.tumblr.com). As always, talk to me! I love hearing what you guys think.


	7. Can't change the storm of a hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleep is for the weak

_“You--you’re a monster.” Christina gasped_

_Celeste took a long pull from her cigarette, still sitting on her porch. She stared down the line of the cigarette at the group._ She _was the monster, huh. Interesting. She bit back a bitter laugh. Instead, she blew a lazy breath of smoke out at them, smirking when they scowled at the acrid scent._

_“Where’s the boy?” a beta snarled_

_Celeste narrowed her gaze at them. “Which one?” she asked flatly. “The baby, or the one that you guys tried to kill?”_

_“The bite hardly would’ve killed him.” Christina hissed. “It’s his own fault if his body rejected it.”_

_Her words set off a sharp jab of irritation in Celeste, like a cattle prod on her nerves. She felt her magic pulsing in her, coursing up to her face. She skewered Christina with oily black eyes, so consuming in nature that it swallowed up whites and irises alike._

_The entire pack tensed, taking defensive steps back. They were all shifted, save for Christina. Celeste always known that the mantle of alpha would go to Christina should something happen. Her pack was large, yes, but Christina couldn’t shift into a wolf. Her aura didn’t have those pretty eyes that all_ worthy _born wolves had. Celeste clapped a hand on her knee._

_“Heel, you fucking dogs.” Celeste hummed. Growls filled the air like an annoying buzzing. Celeste took a deep breath._

_“I said,_ heel.”

* * *

Celeste woke up screaming. Her voice bounced harmlessly off of the muting spell placed over her room in vibrant splashes of blue.

* * *

 

Celeste didn’t go to back to sleep. Instead, she pulled on a pair of pants and trudged downstairs to her office. She had a deadline creeping up on her, anyways. If she had stayed in bed, all she would’ve done was stare at the ceiling until the sun came up or until Liam decided to come in, Isaac in tow and get Celeste up for breakfast.

She closed the door to her office, waving her hand in a dismissive motion. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the door glow a soft red before going back to normal. She didn’t mute her office, since it made the boys nervous not being able to hear her. She was more inclined to mute her bedroom because she only ever closed her door, activating the spell, after the boys had fallen asleep for the night. Celeste was least in control of herself when she was sleeping, and was prone to nightmares. It would be annoying, at the very least if she was breaking up Liam’s sleep schedule nightly because she couldn’t keep from screaming.

Celeste didn’t like closed doors, and she disliked locked doors even more. Erica was at the age where she wanted to hide everything and was intolerant of her brothers going through her things. The only reason Celeste locked her office--with magic, no less--was because it would be her ass if anyone got into her work. So many things were fragile, and Isaac had a penchant for writing on things, eager to practice his penmanship on whatever he could. Liam was an unintentionally destructive little thing, too excitable to be around anything easily ruined. At least with the barrier spell, the boys wouldn’t be able to knock the door down, even with their enhanced strength. She’d chosen not to use mountain ash because she didn’t want her barrier to be unbreakable; if the boys truly needed to get in, the spell would gauge their level of intent and if it was high enough they’d be let in.

So really, if they needed her, they’d be fine. The spell would still throw any other supernatural being back the same way mountain ash would, though. Call her paranoid, but too much had happened in her past for her not to take certain precautions.

Alone, Celeste didn’t have to cover herself to make anyone else comfortable. She sat in her chair dressed only in sweatpants and a sports bra, tattoos callously on display. Her arms were covered wrist to shoulder in ink, runes and images and the like twisting around in seemingly random ways. Across her chest spanned a crow, wings expanded from collar to collar. On her back, she had a few more runes crawling across her shoulders, but that was pretty much it. Black lines circled each knuckle on her hands. Her palms themselves had much smaller marks; in her center of her left was a black circle, a full moon, and on the right was an empty circle, a simple sun. From each circle webbed inky black tendrils, antlers of sorts creeping around to meet on the other side of her wrists.

Celeste pulled her feet up underneath her, fingering the bands of black that covered her ankles. The markings were meant to ground her, to shackle her to the earth she pulled her power from day in and day out. She had never explained any of the tattoos to Erica; she’d just shown up that day in the hospital, hair several inches longer and covered in ink. Erica had been too preoccupied with everything that was going on to really take stock of Celeste’s appearance, but these days it seemed that it was all Erica could do not to stare. Celeste sighed, sliding on a pair of thick reading glasses. They were basically glorified magnifying glasses, which was why Celeste only wore them when she was working on her translations. Fine, faded print is trying on the eyes.

She pulled on the stark white gloves that she always left atop her desk. Gloves were a stupid protocol, in her opinion. They reduced feeling and dexterity, leaving you more likely to rip something. The argument she somehow always ended up having with her employers was that she had kids and God knows what could be on her hands at any time. It’s common sense to wash your hands before touching something that seems fragile, especially paper, and it was offensive that the person or people paying her always assumed that she was stupid in this way. Okay, not _stupid_ \--they wouldn’t be letting her handle their artifacts--but completely ignorant of procedure. When Celeste brought up her argument, one of her more well-off, private clients had gotten her a pair of custom fitted gloves, which had raised the unspoken question of how he had managed to gauge the exact size of her hands and wrists from their brief face-to-face interactions.

Celeste heaved deep sigh. Whatever. Gloves or no, she had work to do. Recently, a client had sent her a thick tome wrapped in strips of fraying leather to protect the book’s integrity. The thing had been _filthy_ , clearly the product of a recent dig. Tied to the tome with a thin string of twine had been a letter, close with a wax seal that she’d never seen before. She’d call it a triskelion, but those generally had curved spirals to represent man’s legs moving forward, progressing in some way or another. Besides that, triskelions represented three extensions that could all be linked back to one thing. Weres usually adhered to some type of triskelion in order to keep their wolves in line. Isaac had one, too; Nyx, Prometheus, and Hades. He couldn’t quite wrap his mouth around ‘Prometheus’ yet, but he was getting there.

Anyway though, the seal; instead of the flowing, curving lines of a normal triskelion, the mark ended in sharp semi triangles with hard edges, and the lines didn’t come back together to curl around each other in each grouping. They just...stopped, petering off into nothing. Celeste had tried researching what that could mean, but there hadn’t been much to go off of. All she knew was that the mark wasn’t a threat of any kind.

The letter itself had been pretty to the point, which was a little odd considering the fancy wax seal and the tiny, expensive-looking envelope. It was handwritten with a fountain pen, judging by the varying amount of ink used on each word, probably a result of the writer having to pick up their hand each time. The paper the letter was written on seemed to be just as expensive as the envelope, so if nothing else, Celeste knew she wouldn’t be stiffed on the bill because the prospective client clearly had money. The handwriting was neat and precise, cursive words flowing across the paper without being too large or romantic; probably a man.

 _You come highly recommended, Miss Reyes,_ it had read. _I do so hope that you can translate this text, as my associates and I have had no such luck thus far. Enclosed with the book is a partial codex found at another site. Additionally, I have enclosed an advance payment as incentive to take on this commission. If and when you finish, or if you have no intention of taking my offer, return the book to the following address and someone will be along to receive it._

_My thanks._

The writer hadn’t signed the letter, and the address scrawled at the bottom of the letter belonged to a specific stack in a public library somewhere down in southern California. When Celeste had called the library and asked them about the book, they’d informed her that they carried no such thing. The same had happened when she’d asked about the codex. They weren’t even a university library, they’d said, so they didn’t have all that impressive of a reference section.

That alone had been unnerving; a client that didn’t want Celeste to know their name, mentioned having associates, and wanted discreet drop-offs with zero face-to-face interaction. On top of all of that, the client was rich enough that they’d seemingly led a dig for a book and a codex that were at least a couple hundred years old each, judging by the type of paper used and the overall condition of the texts. The way the book was bound suggested it came from somewhere in Europe, but without the proper equipment Celeste was left to approximate where exactly. She wasn’t exactly secretive about her work, but she wasn’t willing to ask for help on this one from any of her contacts because they’d want to see the thing for themselves. If her client didn’t even want Celeste seeing who they were, she highly doubted they’d want her passing their stuff around.

Like she’d said, the book had an excessive amount of secrecy surrounding it. Had it not been for the five hundred dollars that’d been tucked neatly into the envelope, Celeste probably would’ve sent the prospective headache back. Money talks, and while Celeste might be doing well for her situation, she still wasn’t in the best shape.

Erica had been needing braces for the past year, but Celeste had burnt the money for that moving her family. Erica wanted that invisible retainer, too, the plastic one that you take out nightly and throw away every few months for a newer one that was adjusted to the way her teeth shifted. The number attached to that Invisi-whatever had given Celeste pause and no small amount of indigestion. It was easily twice as expensive as regular braces, but Erica had begged off of having metal in her head. Like the pushover she was, Celeste had promised Erica that when she got the money she’d straighten Erica’s teeth with the expensive shit.

So no, Celeste hadn’t turned down the offer. She had no real way to confirm that she was taking it, but the client probably knew that Celeste had started in on the book when she hadn’t returned it in the first week it had been sent to her. That had raised questions, too, how they knew her P.O. box, but they had said in their letter that they knew someone that knew her. She _really_ wasn’t in the mood to comb through her contacts to find out who the hell had sent a John Smith her way.

The tome was written in a collection of different languages, one of which that was either long dead or made up by the original author, since Celeste couldn’t find it in any of her reference books. Whomever had written the book--the author had probably written their name somewhere, because, _come on_ , if Celeste had written a visual fucking rubix cube she’d want everyone to know--had gone to great lengths to make sure only they could understand it. That was a pain in the ass, Celeste would be the first to say, but it wasn’t altogether a lost cause. The codex, while partial, seemed to be the key to translating the author’s made up language. Once she figured that part out, the rest would be a matter of figuring out each language separately and finding the correct definitions to each word in a way that made them flow seamlessly into another language; there’s no way an author would write an entire book in broken gibberish.

The only thing that continued to be a thorn in Celeste’s side was the codex. How in the hell does someone translate a language that doesn’t exist? Without a proper frame of reference, the language would be lost, which was probably what that troll of an author had wanted in the first place. If anything, Celeste needed a codex for the codex. Perhaps then everything would fall into place.

God, her life really _was_ starting to sound like an episode of Supernatural. Celeste started to run her hands through her hair, frustrated but stopped short. She rolled her eyes at her pristine white gloves as she lowered her arms. If she got oil of any kind on that book the writing would be destroyed, the paper severely compromised. The yellowed, mottled paper was oddly soft, far from the brittle fragility she’d been expecting from a book so old. While soft, though, it was still old and more prone to damage than the average book. The ink was odd, since it didn’t lay into the paper  the way carbon or metal-gall ink did. Celeste hadn’t tried running her hands over the pages for fear of any of it coming off on her gloves, but the writing appeared to have its own raised texture. She didn’t know what the ink was made of and had no practical way to test it, so it remained a mystery how unconventional ink had managed to stay completely adhered for over three hundred years.

Celeste set into the book again. She’d already decoded most of the latin, but without the other languages and the author’s mystery words she was shit out of luck. Today, she intended to tackle another one of the real languages and see what meanings she could glean from that. Hopefully then she’d be able to at least get a rough understanding of _what_ exactly she was reading. That way, even if she didn’t have all of the words, she’d have a good basis to start making guesses at the bits she didn’t yet understand.

“Erica had better appreciate that invisible shit.” Celeste muttered

* * *

Celeste barked a laugh.

“Is this _Norse?”_

* * *

Isaac knocked on Celeste’s door sometime later, calling out to her through the heavy wood that he was hungry. She abandoned the book and leaned back, giving her body a good stretch. She called out to Isaac that she’d be out in a second, nearly moaning aloud when she managed to get a particularly painful crick out of her neck. She couldn’t recall how long she’d been sitting there, trying to force Norse and Latin to make sense together in a coherent fashion, but the vintage clock she’d gotten as a gift from a client (because she was always late on their deadlines, ha ha, asshole) said that she’d been in her office for the past three hours.

She pulled off her gloves and discarded them in a messy ball next to the codex. She sneered at it. She wouldn’t be able to use the damn thing until she figured out how to decode the author’s nonsense language.

Isaac was sitting on the floor next to the door when she opened it. His arms were crossed and he was making the “I want to pout but I’m a big boy” face. She squated down in front of him with her back to him, arms out behind herself.

“Come on, big guy. Liam and Erica are still asleep so we can go get breakfast, yeah?”

“Really?” Isaac asked, tough guy exterior gone.

Celeste had to hold back a laugh at how easily swayed he could be. She nodded her head. “Yup, and you can pick the doughnuts this time if you want.”

Celeste nearly toppled forward when Isaac pounced on her, locking gangly legs around her waist. She caught herself in a crouch, fingers flexing on the hardwood floor. One at a time, she brought her hands up to rest beneath Isaac’s thighs, holding most of his weight so he could loosen his grip on her throat.

Isaac reached a hand down, caressing Celeste’s crow. She tried to stifle a surprised little gasp, but she still made a small noise. Isaac recoiled almost instantly, crossing his arms across her clavicle again. She walked them to the front door, sliding on a beat up pair of tennis shoes and bending down to pick up a pair of boots from Isaac’s collection of shoes. If there were two things Isaac Reyes couldn’t go without, it was a nice pair of shoes and a scarf. Celeste didn’t mind buying him shoes, because for now, they’d still cost her next to nothing since he was a kid. Erica had raised a little stink about that awhile back, saying that the boys got more clothes than she did because Celeste played favorites. Celeste had calmly explained to Erica the price difference between kid’s clothes and adult clothes, to which Erica had announced that because of that, she had a right to the clothes in Celeste’s closet.

Celeste didn’t mind sharing clothes with Erica, not anymore at least; she’d gotten over that annoying “what’s mine is _mine”_ phase when she was in college and she’d been low on just about everything but charm. She didn’t have money to burn on a dorm, so she had shared apartments with multiple people for several years. Some things had been irritating, like people drinking her milk or using her toothbrush, but most times it had been alright. There’d only been one memorable blow up well into Celeste’s freshman year when a roommate had worn a sweater that Erica had bought for Celeste as a going away gift and fucking _ruined_ it. Celeste had known next to nothing about herself at the time; all she’d known was that her Spark acted up when she was angry or upset.

That incident had had the dual effect of exposing herself to someone and finding out that one of her roommates was a fucking werewolf and _wow,_ those actually exist. Her boyfriend, _of course_ heard the confrontation and had come flying out of her room, guns blazing, and Celeste hadn’t used to be so good under pressure. She freaked out, sent that bastard flying into the wall she’d just thrown her roommate, _his girlfriend_ into, and spent the next hour cowering in a circle of mountain ash while one of their alphas (of _course_ they were from two different packs, because why would one group of snarling wolf people ever be enough?) drove down to see what exactly had gone down and why.

Let it be known that Celeste has never been a fan of Hale wolves since.

“Does it sting?” Isaac asked

“Hm?” Celeste grunted, shoving his feet into his little boots as best as she could while he was still on her back. He was wearing jeans, she noticed. She snorted. The little shit probably knew that if he woke up early enough, he’d get to ride with Celeste to go somewhere; She tended to pick up breakfast on Sundays instead of making it herself. Isaac reached his hand down again, more hesitantly than last time, like he was afraid of hurting her. Carefully, he stroked the crow with one finger.

“Does it sting?” he repeated, more firm this time.

Celeste shook her head. “None of it hurts, baby. Grab my jacket.”

Isaac snatched the grey hoodie hanging from the coat rack as they passed by it. He tucked it between his chest and Celeste’s back. “Then why is it sometimes there and sometimes not?” he asked as she galloped down the porch stairs, keys in hand. Celeste let his question hang in the air between them as she carried him to the car and deposited him in his booster seat, laughing when he swatted her helping hands away and fastened his seatbelt himself.

Celeste eyed the track marks her tires had caused in the grass from repeatedly driving up the same path. She’d been meaning to pay someone lay the driveway over again, since all that had happened to it was a bit of overgrowth. The place had already been pretty overgrown when they’d moved in; The realtor had assured Celeste that “a little bit of love” was all the land needed. She hadn’t cared for a sales pitch. She just wanted somewhere that wasn’t a ratty motel. Being effectively homeless really lights a fire under your ass, and you tend to take whatever you’re given. Yes, Celeste had taken a house that needed _a lot_ of maintenance, but it was big and grand it could be home if she tried hard enough.

She’d mow the everything once she got around to actually buying a lawn mower. A lot of the things they’d had before The Attack had been replaced due to Celeste being blocked out of that place by the pack’s emissary. It had come as a very rude surprise when she’d been physically thrown backwards when she tried to cross the town line. Thankfully, she’d had enough foresight to get out of her car and check if a boundary spell had been cast around the town’s perimeter. Otherwise, she’d have hit the barrier while the car kept moving, yanking her backwards through her seat and out of the rear window. Instead of having to pick glass out of her back, all Celeste had been left with was a bruised back and some wicked road rash.

Celeste walked over to a broken tree trunk a few yards out from the house and hunched over it, pressing her hands into the fresh, ever-moist soil in there. It glowed bright purple before sinking down into the roots and shooting, quick as wit, around the house’s perimeter in a flash of lavender light. She stood up, brushing her hands off. Her magic kept the soil she’d put inside of the gnarled trunk rich, which she used to conduct her magic into her own barrier spell. Earth was the main component of any protection spell, and if you wanted to make it strong, it was always in your best interest to get yourself acquainted with the marvel that is earth magic.

Mountain ash was a good go-to for protection, but Celeste didn’t think that Liam and Isaac were old enough--strong enough--yet to be able to move freely with it around. It pissed Erica off, but Celeste made her carry a bag of it on her at all times. Celeste had originally wanted her to carry a hex bag, but Erica had whined that everyone would think she was a crazy Satanist if someone found it in her stuff.

At least Erica was carrying _something_ to protect herself.

* * *

“I want ice cream.”

“Yeah, and I want McSteamy in my life.”

* * *

 

Celeste sat in a small diner with Isaac, watching him put away his second stack of pancakes. He’d conned her into sitting down to eat instead of getting something to go and going back home. He didn’t spend all that much time in town, and when he did, he was in the shop with Celeste and his brother. Beacon Hills wasn’t the biggest town, but to Isaac, it was huge and still vastly unexplored.

Isaac stopped inhaling his pancakes long enough to take a gulp of orange juice to wash it all down. He leaned his head back with a loud, theatrical ‘ahh’. Celeste laughed at the dramatics.

“It’s not _that_ refreshing.” she teased

“Sure it is.” Isaac hummed, shoveling eggs into his mouth.

Weres ate like you wouldn’t believe, which had Celeste running to the grocery store every two weeks because she’d look like a weird ass stocking up on apocalypse levels of food once per month. Even Liam was starting to grow into his appetite, which would spell out bigger dinners that took longer to prepare.

Fun.

“ ‘Leste,” Isaac started. He was pretty familiar with her; called her by a nickname when they were alone and Mom or Mama when they were with other people, which was really just him marking his territory. Celeste had made it clear to both Isaac and Liam that even though she was their mom, they could call her whatever they wanted.

“Yeah?” Celeste prompted, propping her legs up under the table so her feet bracketed Isaac’s thighs on his side of the booth. He pressed his free hand against an exposed strip of skin, running his fingers over where she knew the black ankle bands were. When he looked up at her through his curls, his eyes were curious.

“You never told me. Why are the pictures sometimes there and sometimes not?”

He’d gotten that persistent streak from her.

Celeste shrugged, resting her hands on her full stomach. She’d thrown her usual glamour over her upper body before they left their property, but she usually never covered her ankles. It was a time of the year where it was acceptable to wear full length clothes, so it wasn’t like it was weird that she always had long pants on.

“I can’t show them to the people here.” she told Isaac

Isaac tapped his fork against his plate once before putting it down and scrambling to pull his feet up under himself so he sat a little taller. He leaned forward on his elbows, clearly intent on telling a secret judging by the way he was flailing a hand to beckon her closer. Jesus, that Stilinski kid had really managed to transfer his mannerisms in one night. Celeste obliged easy enough, taking her legs down from Isaac’s side of the booth so she could lean closer too.

Isaac’s breath smelled like syrup when he spoke. “You showed them before, though.”

Celeste ignored the uncomfortable pang she felt in her stomach. She didn’t like talking about where they used to live, especially not to Isaac because she didn’t want to pull up any memories of The Attack on accident.

“I got in trouble last time, Isaac. I don’t want to get in trouble again.” Celeste said lightly

Isaac sat back, seemingly mollified with that answer. How long had he been waiting to ask that? Celeste hadn’t really explained to the boys why she hid her tattoos now, but they hadn’t asked so she assumed that they hadn’t cared.

“What about the house?” Isaac asked

“What _about_ the house?” Celeste repeated

“Copycat.” he muttered, grabbing a sausage off of the plate with his bare hand. Celeste gave him a look that had him sitting up straight and using his fork again. “I mean,” he said, mouth full, “You hide them in the house, too.”

“They make you and your siblings nervous.”

“Not really. Not anymore.” Isaac shrugged. “Erica’s the one that smells weird.”

“Weird like how?” Celeste pressed, suddenly interested.

He shrugged again. “I don’t know the word for it. She’s not scared.”

Anxious, then. Like Celeste is a time bomb.

“She’s allowed to feel that way, baby.”

“But the pictures are pretty.”

Okay, that was uncalled for. Flag on the play. Celeste couldn’t help the big, goofy grin that stretched across her face. She could even feel heat on her cheeks. Goddamnit, she was getting butterflies and kind of wanted to cry, all because her son had called her tattoos pretty.

“Thank you, Isaac.” Celeste said quietly

“Why are you crying?” he exclaimed, eyes flashing yellow for the briefest of moments.

Celeste choked on a laugh, wiping her eyes. “I’m _happy.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! We're learning a bit more about Celeste, which is something I've been wanting to do for a while now. As always, my writing tumblr can be found [here](http://honestfics.tumblr.com). Be expecting another chapter either tomorrow or this weekend to make up for missing last week's update (sorry!)


	8. Like water to a seed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She didn't know him.

“Food.” Celeste called out, kicking off her shoes at the threshold. Isaac ran upstairs on all fours, screaming Liam’s name. Celeste went to the kitchen and set the box of doughnuts Isaac had hand-picked for everyone down on the table.

She went back outside when she heard Liam’s angry howl. The surrounding land was calm, the air blowing gently. Celeste almost wouldn’t have noticed the difference had she not been actively looking for one. She walked to the furthest edge of the west end of her barrier, walking along it slowly. She held her hand out as though she was running it against a wall.

Ah. There.

Celeste curled her fingers into the small fissure in her barrier. It was slight, nearly unnoticeable, and if she’d been any younger and inexperienced, she would’ve blamed herself for it. She knew she hadn’t done it, though, because this kind of break didn’t come from personal error.

Someone had tested her boundary.

A blatant attempt to break it would’ve been far more obvious; her spell would’ve retained traces of the magic belonging to the person that had tried to come in. This, however, had been more deliberate. The person that had done this hadn’t been trying to break in. They were testing Celeste’s power, seeing what they were working with. They wanted to know if Celeste could be fucked with.

Celeste scowled as she raised her other hand to repair the crack. This spelled out something that Celeste knew she wouldn’t like. Someone had been able to make a dent in her spellwork, and that required a substantial amount of power and control. As much as Celeste wanted to blame Alpha Hale for this, a werewolf wouldn’t have been able to do something like this, not alone at least. Werewolves, while magical in nature, weren’t inherently good at handling it, hence the need for emissaries.

That was an idea. Maybe Alpha Hale’s emissary had done this. That was worrying in and of itself, the notion that Alpha Hale might have someone in her corner strong enough to pose certain problems for Celeste. This kind of violation was a warning, a promise of something to come.

Celeste was really growing to hate cloak-and-dagger tactics.

Liam came toddling down the porch steps in his batman onesie, yelling for Celeste. She met him halfway, scooping him into her arms and shifting him onto her hip. He put sticky hands on her face, giving her a quick kiss on the nose before thanking her for the doughnuts. She nuzzled into his sugary cheek, smiling when he laughed. If there was one thing she could always count on, it was Liam for comfort. He was touchy in clingy in a way Celeste hadn’t known she’d been missing for so many years. There was something so basic about the way he loved her, the way he relied on her, that she just really needed. It helped ground her.

“The full moon is coming up, Liam.” Celeste told him. “Are you excited?”

The full moon was right on Celeste’s heels, a mere handful of days away at this point. In the past, when Liam had been the only Were in their family, Celeste had relied on a pack each month. They had been obliging about it, never asking for anything in return save for the consult here and there.

Needless to say she no longer had that.

She had researched many of the ways that werewolves were controlled during full moons before; she wasn’t all that into putting a barbed collar around Liam and Isaac’s necks and tying them to the nearest sturdy support beam. She had prepared the ingredients she needed to create collars for the boys. While she did intend to collar them, it wasn’t in the traditional sense. She’d gathered the ingredients necessary for a modified tracking spell, one that would work as a leash that Celeste could pull on. While she would try her best to keep up with the boys, there was a good chance that they’d outrun her. If she did this right, she’d be able to not only follow the boys, but physically reel them in no matter where they went. Additionally, if the boys encountered something physically threatening to them, a burst of Celeste’s energy would be released, hopefully enough to throw someone back and give the boys enough time to get away.

“We’re gonna run?” Liam asked her

Celeste nodded as she opened the front door and walked in. “Of course. Isaac’s going to be running for the first time.”

Speaking of, Isaac was in the kitchen, eyeing the remaining doughnuts on the table greedily. Celeste grabbed him as she walked by, hunching down and throwing him over her shoulder. He poked at her sides as she traipsed up the stairs with him. She tucked her nose into her side, taking a deep whiff of his clothes.

“You take a shower this morning, Isaac?” Celeste asked

Isaac went a little too still. “Yes.” he said after a beat.

“Is that the truth?”

Liam laughed at Isaac’s weak attempt at lying. Celeste didn’t need the super-hearing to hear Isaac’s heart skip. Isaac’s never been a good liar, to which Celeste was both immensely proud of and mildly worried by. Celeste was the type to pretend to be open with others, to let them believe that she was being completely candid. That way, no one found anything out about her that she didn’t want them to know. Not even Erica knew everything about Celeste; sometimes Celeste would let bits and pieces slip, but the vast majority of the past five or so years was still unsaid.

Some things were better left unsaid.

“Why wasn’t your hair wet this morning, then?” Celeste asked, voice full of exaggerated curiosity.

“Blow dryer?” Isaac tried meekly.

Celeste rounded into the bathroom, toeing the door open. She set Isaac down on the counter and pushed the door shut. She sat down on the tub, leaning back a bit to plug the drain and start the tap. Erica had chalked “white bathtub with gold claw feet” up to another thing she could complain about daily. Celeste liked the tub; there was a showerhead attached and it steamed up the bathroom the way Celeste liked. Liam tangled his fingers in Celeste’s hair. She could feel his fingers sticking to several locks, tangling together in a way that was bound to hurt a little when they separated.

He had a fascination with long hair; Celeste had been letting him grow his, and would continue to let him grow it until he told her he wanted it to be cut. It wasn’t her place to dictate how Liam should look or act. So long as he was happy, she was ecstatic. She didn’t care either way about how he identified; sex and gender had never been as a big a thing to Celeste as it seemed to be to some people. She just didn’t see it in terms of black or white.

“Isaac Reyes, you don’t like blow dryers. They’re too hot and noise bothers you.” Celeste told Isaac.

Isaac shrugged, looking away. “I like them.”

“Isaac’s fibbing.” Liam whispered

“Liam’s fibbing!” Isaac shot back, face shifting. He snarled at his brother, whose own face twisted up to match his. Celeste dipped her hands into the rising bath water to test the temperature, unimpressed with the posturing of small children. They got into little fights like this all the time, and it had only gotten louder since Isaac was turned. Celeste detangled Liam from her hair with only a few tears on her part--quick, manly tears--and started undressing him. He helped her get him out of his onesie as best as he could, but he had a habit of tangling himself up in his clothes too fast sometimes. She set him down in the tub and went for Isaac, who actually growled at Celeste and ran out of the bathroom.

She looked out the open door, and then down at her hands. Had she done something wrong just now? Liam and Isaac had been bathing together for the longest; Erica had said that she used to bathe Isaac herself most times. Isaac mostly bathed alone these days, but he wasn’t against bathing with Liam, or at least he hadn’t used to be.

“Isaac’s a weirdo.” Celeste mumbled to Liam as she came back over, swiping a bottle of unscented bubble bath from the counter as she came over.

* * *

“Is there jelly in your _hair_?”

“Not my fault!”

* * *

 

Celeste came out of the bathroom with Liam wrapped snugly in a bath sheet. He was nodding on her shoulder now that his sugar high had settled. She’d learned a while ago that even though Liam wasn’t a baby, swaddling still largely did the trick for him. That had been a doozy, when she’d first taken custody of everyone; Liam had his IED, Isaac had a minor case of shaken baby, and Erica was, well, Erica. Celeste didn’t think that Erica had ever been outwardly happy that Celeste was the one caring for them, but there were moments when things weren’t so bad.

With her arms full of Were, Celeste couldn’t very well go hunt Isaac down, but she was sorely tempted to. Why had he even run away in the first place? What had she done? She took Liam to his room and dressed him in sweatpants and a soft shirt. His hair was still wet, so she let him sit in her lap as she toweled it dry the best she could. His tiny hands snuck under her shirt, moving up to cup her breasts. He let out a content sigh. Celeste had a feeling that breasts soothed his wolf’s need to be female, just a bit, and while Liam wasn’t stuffing his shirt or anything, he still liked to go for the chest when he could. His touching made Erica uncomfortable. She didn’t like the idea of her baby brother doing something like that. While Celeste had calmly explained the situation with Liam’s wolf as best as she could, she still had the feeling that Erica thought Liam was trans.

She was just about to take Liam and use him to find Isaac when the doorbell rang. That was one thing that Celeste _didn't_  like about the house; when the doorbell rang, it gave a resounding warble throughout the entire house, chiming more than once and would keep doing so if the person using the bell didn’t know not to ring more than once. Celeste wasn’t a fan of excessive noise; she liked to play it off as being anxious about noise because the boys generally didn’t take loud noises well, but she knew this was a Celeste thing. She’d always hated unnecessary sounds. It was kind of embarrassing, actually, how many alarm clocks she’d destroyed in college because she unconsciously lashed out at the shrill beeping with magic.

“Coming,” Celeste called out as she galloped down the stairs, though she doubted the person outside would be able to hear her. Only humans could cross onto her land so easily.

She pulled open the front door to see Stiles Stilinski, the kid from the supermarket and dinner with the McCalls waving awkwardly at her and readjusting the heavy-looking backpack that was hanging off of one shoulder. He didn’t smile at her; his mouth did this weird uptick paired with a furrowed brow and quick nod. His aura was just as jumpy as it had been yesterday.

“Hi, Stiles.” Celeste started, letting the greeting hang between them like a question.

“Hey, Miss Reyes.” Stiles grunted.

Celeste hid a grimace at the formality. Usually, she only expected it out of people that didn’t know her. She still wasn’t used to being referred to as a ‘Miss’. “You can call me Celeste, Stiles. I won’t tell your dad.” she teased.

Stiles’s mouth opened a bit before he shut it again and nodded. She still hadn’t stepped back to let him in. In fact, she was very purposely standing in the center of the threshold to discourage him going around her. He seemed to realize what she was doing a beat late, thick eyebrows scrunching up as he tried for a more friendly expression. Stiles Stilinski was a generally awkward, gangly guy that possibly wore too many layers and had big doe eyes, but Celeste knew better than to doubt someone based on looks alone. She refused to drop her guard in front of him just because he wasn’t outwardly threatening.

“Right, um. Erica missed some of her classes last week because, y’know…”

“She had a seizure.” Celeste supplied flatly. “She missed school for a few appointments. It’s okay to say it.”

“Right. That.” Stiles muttered. “Well, Scott picked up her homework for her. Dude’s an airhead, so it’s no wonder he forgot to give it to her when he saw her yesterday. I came to give it to her.”

Celeste gave Stiles a very clear up and down. He shifted foot to foot, either nervous that Celeste was giving him the third degree or uncomfortable with being stared at, one.

“Why couldn’t Scott bring it himself?” she asked, amused.

“Beats the hell out of me.” Stiles said under his breath, blushing when Celeste laughed. Did Stiles not know about his best friend? Celeste knew damn well why Scott McCall wouldn’t have been able to step foot on her property. She’d say that he was the one that tried this morning, but if Scott had just come traipsing along with Erica’s homework, none the wiser, he would've been repelled hard enough to break a bone or two because he wouldn’t know to brace for impact. A hit like that would’ve left a bigger, more obvious mark on her boundary.

How would Scott have known not to come onto her land, though? His control was admirable for a recently bitten wolf his age; there’s no way he learned that on his own. Without an alpha--whether Scott thought he had control or not--he’d go feral within a few weeks. A feral _teenage_ Were in a sleepy town like Beacon Hills would’ve made it to Celeste’s ears, even with several of her old supernatural connections having been severed so recently. She wouldn’t have stepped foot in this town if she’d thought she might have ended up having to put a teenager, _someone’s child_ down. Scott McCall had an alpha.

When Celeste had first come to scout Beacon Hills to see if she could move there, she’d walked into the preserve and systematically created a _massive_ scouting sigil. She had taken her bestiary with her that night in order to recall as many symbols for the supernatural she possibly could, so when she cast the spell, her magic would know what it was looking for. She had scouted for just about every type of creature she knew of, which was why she knew that there were Weres, druids and even a banshee or two lying low in Beacon Hills. Of course there were others, more types of people, but they were flanked out into much smaller groups. Families, probably just trying to lead normal lives. Celeste hadn’t worried herself about the families so much, no matter what they were, because she knew that when push came to shove, most times supernatural families were just trying to protect themselves and their own. They weren’t territorial.

They weren’t wolves.

Celeste’s sigil was too expansive to capture certain details, such as how many alphas there were or even if there were any alphas at all. She’d exhausted herself casting such a wide net; she’d woken up the next morning, face down in the dirt. She still remembers the uncomfortable, tight feeling that had caught in her chest as she rushed to get rid of all evidence of her having been traipsing around on some alpha’s territory before she was discovered. She hadn’t wanted to square up against a Were again, not so soon after the last time.

She’d only run into one alpha thus far.

“Miss Re--Celeste?”

Celeste shook her head, allowing her usual grin to creep onto her face. She’d been quiet for too long. Stiles was staring at her, clearly unsure as to whether or not she was going to make him leave, and he kept shifting his feet like he was trying to find a more comfortable angle for when he inevitably bolted. He really was an awkward looking dude, all lines and angles. That shaved head wasn’t helping too much, either. It made him look more frail than he actually was.

“You have Erica’s homework.” Celeste said, holding her hand out to accept whatever he had. Stiles did that weird mouth-open-while-thinking thing again. She pretended like she didn’t notice how his fingers tightened around the strap in his fist. Her grin only grew with his apparent discomfort. He was here for Erica, huh.

“Yeah, but, um, you said I could help her. I was planning on doing that. Helping.” he told Celeste, shrugging the shoulder holding the backpack.

“I’m surprised you jumped at the offer like you did.”

That much was true. While Celeste had been hoping Stiles would come over at some point, she wasn’t holding her breath. She wasn’t averse to pleasant surprises like Stiles Stilinski offering to tutor her struggling sister.

Being ambushed in the middle of the day by the people that used to support you...now _that_ was a surprise she could’ve lived without.

Stiles blushed, cheeks coloring unevenly. He didn’t blush high on his cheekbones like most people. With him, the flush was lower, coloring the apples of his cheeks and going towards his throat. It was kind of endearing. “My dad told me to come, and, well, I haven’t had a chance to go by your store...” he trailed off, eyes going to the side before meeting Celeste’s, intense and pleading.

Celeste could feel an eyebrow ticking up. Ah. Stiles wanted something from Celeste in exchange for helping Erica out. He was seizing an opportunity.

Smart kid.

Finally, Celeste stepped back, sweeping one arm into her house. “Come on, then.”

“What, really?” Stiles stammered.

Celeste nodded. “I’ve got a thing I’m working on right now, and if you promise not to touch anything I don’t have a problem showing it to you.”

“Oh my God, yeah.” he nodded, hurrying to toe off his shoes and come in. He was staring, Celeste _knew_ he was looking around, but she kept her back turned to him and told him to wait downstairs while she got Erica. She galloped up the stairs two at a time. At the top, Isaac was leaning around the corner, head poking out to look down the stairs.

“Is Stiles here?” he asked. He didn’t say anything about the bath time freakout. Celeste ruffled his hair, grinning when he slapped at her hands.

“You can go say hi if you _promise_ that you won’t shift. He doesn’t know about us, remember?”

Isaac held his pinky out. Celeste wanted to laugh, but pinky promises were Isaac’s thing. To him, they were more binding than any verbal, paper, or even blood contract. Celeste curled her pinky around Isaac’s and they both kissed their thumbs. He nodded once, solemnly before taking off down the stairs. Celeste went back to her room to scoop up Liam, who was lounging on her bed, before heading over to Erica’s room.

She actually hesitated when she went to knock, which was ridiculous. Sure, she hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to Erica in the past week, but this was getting to be ridiculous. _Erica_ was being ridiculous. It was high time this stalemate was broken.

Celeste knocked on the door-

“Erica-”

And was promptly burned within an inch of what was fucking okay. She hissed, nearly dropping Liam in her attempt to retreat. The skin on her knuckles was bright red and shiny, wafting small wisps of steam. She waved her hand at her side in a futile attempt to make the pain dissipate. What the fuck had Erica put on that door? Not many things could repel something like Celeste; her kind wasn’t the type to have a wide range of weaknesses. There were only a handful of things that would burn her like this. Seeing that the door wasn’t made of iron, Celeste didn’t keep hag stones in the house--they’d work on Celeste for all of five seconds because they’re tailored closer to hags of the children-eating variety--and Erica didn’t know how to make a witch box--again, not exactly meant for Celeste’s kind, but effective enough--that only left one thing that Erica could’ve found on her own with little difficulty.

Mistletoe.

Erica must’ve ground it down and washed her door with a reasonable amount of it, because it took a pretty potent dose to repel Celeste as wholly as it had. It had knocked the glamour right off of the hand she’d knocked with, which was a feat in and of itself. Mistletoe bugged up magic pretty bad, so Celeste seriously doubted that she’d be able to hide the tattoos on her hand for _at least_ an hour or two.

That little shit.

Fine.

Celeste rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck side to side. She put her now-exposed hand up, turning so that Liam was as far away from her outstretched hand as possible. If Erica wanted to play it like that then so be it. Celeste could step up to bat.

She gathered energy in her hands, watching passively as her aura, which was usually a pretty gentle blue for something like this, darkened considerably, like an ugly, fresh bruise. Celeste may have been able to hide her emotions from others pretty well, but one’s aura wasn’t so easily fooled. Celeste was just about at the end of her rope with Erica, and it was beginning to show.

The muting spell Celeste threw at Erica’s door like a baseball was more aggressive than the other ones she tended to use in everyday life. This one worked like a vacuum, sucking in any and all noise that dared try to escape from Erica’s room.

“Hold on, baby.” Celeste grunted to Liam, taking two quick steps forward and lashing her leg out, kicking the door in with all of her might and a little bit of magic. She stamped down the pleased warmth in her stomach she felt with the door made no noise as it was quite literally ripped off of the hinges and thrown inward. Erica’s frightened, surprised little screams couldn’t be heard until Celeste had stepped into the room. She set Liam down. He looked conflicted, like he knew a fight was about to break out and didn’t know whose side to take. He hung back behind Celeste’s leg.

Erica was up against the far wall trying to become one with the corner. She was glaring at Celeste for all she was worth. Celeste rolled her eyes. She’d had enough of this petty squabbling.

“Mistletoe, Erica? Really?” Celeste scoffed.

“You’re the one always telling me to study the bestiary.” Erica sniped.

Celeste raised her burned hand, staring at the ruined flesh that was already starting to blister. Erica’s eyes went to Celeste’s hand for the briefest of seconds. Whatever guilt she felt seemed to be outweighed by anger and righteous indignation, though, because she just made a face.

“I guess I did.” Celeste said evenly. “Mistletoe is poisonous to humans, you know. Did you read _that,_ or where you just trying to figure out how bad it would hurt me?”

“I wore gloves.”

Celeste gestured to Liam. “What if one of your brothers had touched the door instead of me, Erica? What if they had ingested your mistletoe?”

Erica’s face screwed up. “They’re not human.”

She hadn’t thought of any of this, clearly.

“I can promise you that it hurts Weres a lot more than it hurts me, and they’re just small enough that they wouldn’t heal from a mistletoe burn. Did you know that? Did you _care?”_

Celeste couldn’t keep the anger from creeping into her tone. If one of the boys had gotten into whatever leftover mistletoe Erica had lying around, Celeste wouldn’t be fast enough to stop it from tearing them apart from the inside out. Mistletoe works a bit slower on larger bodies, sure, but someone Liam’s size would be dead within ten minutes. Erica had always been impulsive, but _this,_ combined with trying to force Celeste’s hand when she’d asked for the silverweed...she was being reckless.

Liam tugged on Celeste’s pant leg. “Mama.” he murmured, voice trembling. “Wanna go downstairs.”

Shit. She hadn’t bothered to put a cap on her emotions since Erica had burned her. Liam was probably afraid. She ran her hand through his long, still-damp hair, nodding once. “Yeah, baby. That’s fine. Go say hi to Stiles. Don’t shift.”

Liam scampered off after promising he wouldn’t.

“When did he get here?” Erica hissed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Celeste waved her burned hand. “I tried.”

“Well, if you weren’t always barging in-”

“So you took violent action against me?” Celeste sneered. “Jesus, how old are you, Erica? You could’ve really hurt someone.”  

Erica crossed her arms over her chest defensively. It had been cute when she was younger, but now it was just annoying. This was Erica’s “I’m dead wrong but I refuse to apologize” stance. Celeste had been more of a foot-stomper herself, back then. Before her spark had manifested, Celeste hadn’t been much stronger physically than Erica and she definitely hadn’t understood what it meant to have epilepsy. She used to shove Erica around and would often end arguments by swinging on her. Erica had always been one to play dirty, though. The only difference between then and now was that when Erica played dirty now, she wasn’t pulling Celeste’s hair anymore; She was making an honest attempt to leave marks and do serious damage.

“This is your fault.” Erica argued stubbornly. “I only need wards for my door because you think it’s okay to use magic and ignore the fact that it’s locked for a reason. You’re always acting like you’re better than someone; None of this would have happened had you just climbed down from your high horse for once and helped me last week.”

Celeste grit her teeth. Of course it was. “Everything is my fault, Erica. If it rains and you can’t wear your favorite shoes, it’s my fault for not making the sun come out. You blame me for _everything_ that has gone wrong in your life when I wasn’t even there for the worst of it. I’m trying my best here.”

Erica’s eyes flashed with an emotion that Celeste wouldn’t have been able to catch had she not been staring into Erica’s aura. Emotional hurt was a bright streak of red, there and gone in most people, but occasionally lingering in those that were depressed or heartbroken. Celeste had hit a nerve. Her more rational side was telling her to let up, to go easy, but the tired, emotionally drained part of her didn’t want to. It was the wrong thing for a parent to do, but Celeste wanted to force Erica to finally say whatever she’d been keeping inside. All of those stupid parenting books said to wait, to let them come to you, but Celeste had been waiting for a year and still Erica was biting her tongue.

“Go ahead.” Celeste snapped. “Get it out in the open. There’s nothing you can say to me that’ll make me hate myself more than I already do for leaving you with him.”

Ah.

Well.

She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“You’re blowing things out of proportion, Celeste.”

“I’m not. You can say what you want, that it was my fault that you fell and had a seizure in front of everyone, but you knew before you had fixed your mouth to ask for silverweed that I was going to say no. The anger you’ve been carrying for me is years old and it sits next to your heart like a tumor. I ignore it most days because you’re having a hard time, but this needs to be addressed.”

Erica shook her head at Celeste. “You really want to do this. Fine. You can go on and on about how bad you feel for leaving us, but you _weren’t there._ You don’t know how it was when you went away. Do you even know how long I was alone with him for?”

Celeste really wanted to scream. Or maybe cry. Both sounded good right about now. She _did_ know what had happened in her absence, which was why it had been so fucking hard to look Erica in the eyes when she’d first come back. She couldn’t stand to see the aftermath of the carnage that had gone down behind Celeste’s turned back. She had chosen to turn a blind eye to it all, deluding herself over and over with the hope that Mom would stand up to Celeste’s step father, the one that Celeste had packed up and run away from with the excuse of seeking higher education.

“He hit you, right?” Celeste’s voice was quieter than she had intended for it to come out as. Erica’s head snapped up, eyebrows knitted together. Celeste laughed, but she didn’t think it made it to her eyes if the way Erica was looking at her was any indication. Celeste rubbed her arm self consciously.

The scars were faded and covered with tattoos now, but they were still there.  

Celeste couldn’t do this. She thought she could, but that had been when it was just about Erica. Celeste didn’t want to talk about herself. She didn’t ever want to relive when she had been small and helpless. She _refused_ to do this. This wasn’t about her. “Go downstairs, Erica. Stiles took the time to abuse his father’s power to figure out where we live and came all the way out here to tutor you. Don’t keep him waiting.”

“Celeste-”

“No.”

Erica’s hand came down on Celeste’s shoulder when she turned away. Celeste shrugged her off. It seemed like no matter what she did, she couldn’t fight off that goddamn exhaustion for more than a day or two at a time. “Go, Erica. I’ll fix your door tomorrow and trick it out with an anti-magic sigil. I’ll even switch out the doorknob and give you one that locks with a key.”

Celeste could feel Erica hesitate for beat before she left out. Celeste rubbed her arm again. She felt dirty. It had been months since she’d thought about Holden Lahey, _months._ She’d been trying to damn hard to repress all of those memories to keep herself strong. It wouldn’t have done anyone a lick of good if Celeste sat down and cried about her childhood everyday. She had told herself countless times that she had been lucky, she hadn’t known him long enough to have the right to harbor any resentment. Mom had married him while she was away; she hadn’t even caught the brunt of his warpath. It had only been a few scars, she told herself. He’d only locked her in the freezer once. She consciously took steps to repress everything. Maybe if she said that ‘she never really knew him’ enough, she’d start believing it.

“I didn’t know him.” she murmured. “I didn’t know him. I didn’t know him.”

* * *

She sank to the floor. Numbly, she began to pick up the shards of wood scattered across the floor.

“I didn’t know him.” she whispered.

* * *

 

Stiles was still there when Celeste came back downstairs nearly an hour later. Her hair was wet from shower she’d just taken. She still didn’t feel _clean,_ per say, but at least her hand didn’t burn that much anymore. Regardless, her fist was still tangled in her towel as she walked through the living room to get to her office. Celeste had tried, in the shower, to bring the glamour back onto her hand but all she succeeded in doing was nearly braining herself when she slipped after being thrust back by her own tangled energy.

He watched her as she went, Stiles. She could feel his eyes tracking her across the room even though he hadn’t stopped talking to Erica. Celeste had known from day one that Stiles Stilinski was the curious type; that kind of thing usually didn’t present so obviously in someone’s aura, but Celeste was beginning to learn that Stiles Stilinski wasn’t your average teenager. He was excitable and persistent.

In her office, Celeste pulled on her gloves. This, she could explain. What she absolutely refused to deal with was relentless questioning as to why she had tattoos that hadn’t been there last night. She left her door open this time; this way, she could see directly into the living room to make sure Isaac and Liam were behaving. Contrary to the Hale pack’s apparent belief, Celeste didn’t actually need to stand over her kids to make sure they didn’t wolf out. For the most part, they had that part down. The only thing that was still keeping Celeste from enrolling them in a human school was the fact that they were still prone to shifting when aggravated.

“Let me know if you guys need anything.” Celeste bellowed.

She received a mumbled response from Stiles, too quiet to pick up, and loud affirmations from the boys. She hadn’t expected a response from Erica. That would’ve required actual effort, and Erica seemed to be allergic to doing anything that didn’t have some kind of shortcut.

Celeste stared down at the book and the codex. She heaved a sigh. God, she didn’t want to come back to these things. At this point, it would probably be easier to find a time traveling spell and just force the writer to explain the damn thing to her. She appreciated a good puzzle, but this was something else. This was secretive to the point of being malevolent. Maybe a nogitsune had written it, Celeste mused. Those things lived for chaos, fed off of negative emotions.

This was too subtle for a nogitsune, though, because in order to feed off of the negative emotions they stirred up, they’d have to physically be there. No nogitsune worth their salt was putting this much effort into causing minor mischief. Besides, nothing even implied that a fox demon might have done this, so that idea was just a pipe dream.  

It was only a matter of time, really, before her client got tired of waiting in the shadows and came to reclaim the book and codex from Celeste because she was taking too long. It had been over a month since she’d accepted the commission, and so far all she’d done was translate the Latin and Norse parts. They told two different stories and didn’t mention names, which was frustrating as all hell. The Norse spoke of gods and monsters, as old Norse finds tended to, and the Latin went on and on about something having to do with blood. When she combined the words, following the way they were actually written, all she got was the rough understanding that someone had used--or needed--lifeblood for something, but she couldn’t figure out why or for what _._

There was still the author’s nonsense language and some Old French to factor in as well, so that would change the wording and connotation _again_ when she factored them in. Language wise, the book’s dating was all over the place. If Celeste hadn’t known how to date books by their covers, pages, and bindings, she’d be at a loss for which century the thing had even come from. Professor Emery would laugh at her if he knew that a book that actually had a key was tripping her up.

_“You mean to tell me that you have the problem and the answer in front of you all at once and you’re still whining?”_

He’d tease and prod at her with his cane like the asshole he was. At least with Professor Emery, though, after he finished rubbing her own incompetency in her face he would eventually help out. It had been a while since she’d phoned him for help, actually, mostly due to the fact that she didn’t like being condescended to by a man with an accent. Something about his voice just made her feel like a silly little peon every time she asked a question. Maybe, Celeste thought as she put on her reading glasses, maybe she’d try him if she didn’t figure this out in the coming month. Her client had been patient so far, but there was no telling when they’d come for their things and the money Celeste had already put into the Erica Reyes Invisi-Whatever fund.

She _really_ hoped she wouldn’t have to call Professor Emery.

“Mama?”

Celeste looked up to see Liam standing in the doorway. He was leaning on the frame, anxiously looking between the floor and Celeste. She ignored the little squeeze her chest gave. He knew he wasn’t supposed to come in. He was respecting a line that Celeste had drawn.

“Come here, Liam.” Celeste said

Liam looked at the floor again. “But,” he started.

“No buts. You can come in as long as I say you can.”

Liam toddled in, carefully sidestepping any and all books stacked on the floor. She watched him toddle around her desk, fingers grazing the spelled wood as he went. She held her hands out to scoop him up into her lap when he got close enough. He squirmed a bit until he got himself sidesaddle, cradled to her chest.

Celeste leaned back in her seat, drawing one leg up. Liam didn’t talk for a bit, but that was fine with Celeste. She liked having him in arms, a soothing little ball of energy. At first, when she was still shotty at best at parenting, she’d treated Liam like a pet cat. She would freak out when he cried and hold him until he stopped. If he wet himself, he cried twice as loudly because the smell was worse for him. If he was hungry, he _howled_. Oh, would he howl. It had pissed Celeste off because it wasn’t like he was an infant. He knew how to speak. He was just choosing to be a tiny little jerk.

“‘Tiles smells.” Liam said

Celeste grinned. Liam didn’t quite have the hang on certain sounds despite having all of his teeth. “What does 'Tiles smell like?” she asked.

“Chips and sweat.”

“What kind of chips?”

“Are you teasing me?”

“Maybe.” Celeste said, nuzzling Liam’s hair.

“Meanie.”

Liam curled into Celeste, tucking his nose into her collar. It was right about time for Liam’s afternoon nap, actually, but he needed lunch first. She could make sandwiches, probably; according to Liam, Stiles would probably be down for some Doritos too. She snickered to herself as she stood up, Liam cradled to her chest like a tiny little bride.

She emerged from her office, grinning at Erica, Stiles, and Isaac. Stiles eyed her gloves. There was that curious streak of his shining through. Celeste nodded at him.

“They protect things.” she said.

“From what?” he asked.

“Grease, oil, Liam’s boogers, you name it. You guys hungry?”

“Well, I mean-”

Isaac gave Stiles a shove. “We’re hungry.” Isaac said.

* * *

“What’s in this grilled cheese?” Stiles groaned

“Calm down, it’s not that amazing.” Erica snickered.

* * *

_“Christ!”_

Laura flipped Jackson over her shoulder, grinning through a mouth full of fang when his larger body hit the ground in a heap of limbs. Derek watched his sister take down a charging Boyd next with minimal difficulty. She really was a force to be reckoned with in a fight, taking out people twice her size. She was a good addition to any pack. She was a good alpha.

“You’re sulking again.” Peter murmured.

Derek resisted the urge to jump. Uncle Peter had an awful, irritating habit of sneaking up on people. It probably had something to do with the fact that he saw himself as some kind of predator. He had been for a while there, after the fire, but he and Laura and calmed Peter down considerably. Well, Peter had still torn Kate’s throat out with his bare hands.

Baby steps.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, nephew.” Peter said.

“I don’t give looks.” Derek muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The very fact that you don’t seem to notice the murderous looks you give is worrying.”

“You give looks.” Laura muttered under her breath.

Derek grimaced. He didn’t like when Laura and Peter teamed up to talk about him. It was annoying and unnecessary. He was fine. What they needed to be worrying about--and still hadn’t addressed--was how they were going to proceed with Celeste Reyes. She was openly against doing anything with Laura; every time Laura came back from an “accidental” run in with Celeste, she always reeked of the bitter tang of frustration. When the pack had convened with Satomi the other night, the outlook on the whole situation hadn’t been bright.

Satomi had been pensive and quiet the entire night. The news of Celeste and her apparent knowledge of the law hadn’t sat well with the alpha. Laura had explained that Celeste was human so she couldn’t have been that much of a threat in the first place; she just wanted the girl’s respect, and if Celeste allowed, her pups. Two Weres so young would be a good addition to the pack, Laura had said, because they would grow up in a strong pack and help reaffirm everyone’s anchor.

_“So,” Satomi said. She set down her glass. “You want to have these children to teach commitment and protection to your other betas?”_

_“It’s proven that packs become more closely knit when there are children in the center of it all.” Laura said._

_“Laura Hale.”_

_The entire room fell silent, looking between Satomi and Laura. Laura rose her chin defiantly. Satomi’s face was unimpressed. One black eyebrow flicked up._

_“You intend to tear these children away from anchors they likely already have. You intend to remove them from a pack they already belong to.”_

_“Celeste Reyes hardly counts as a pack.” Laura snorted._

_“She is their mother and a damn fine alpha if what you’ve told me is true. She knows the law and follows it. Her betas respect her to the point where she doesn’t have to raise her voice, doesn’t need the power of an alpha werewolf to calm them. How many times have you had to use your pull to force one of your betas to submit?” Satomi asked._

_“She’s human. It’s only a matter of time before she loses control of them. She needs my pack’s intervention.”_

_“There has been no significant event that requires intervention.”_

_“She threatened Derek. She’s hiding something.” Laura said. Derek looked at Laura. She had been the one to tell Derek that he’d been overreacting; she had to be really grasping straws at this point if she was trying to scrounge up justifications to Satomi._

_“She warned a foreign beta to stay away from her pack and her territory. Wouldn’t it have been more telling if she had immediately rolled onto her back?”_

_“That doesn’t change the fact that she’s not being forthcoming with me.”_

_“Wouldn’t it be easier to turn willing teenagers instead of poaching children?” Satomi said slyly. “There’s no guarantee that these pups would ever open up to you.”_

_“It wouldn’t be poaching, Satomi. I’m the alpha of this territory and they are young betas in need of guidance. They’ll know to respect my authority.”_

_“You have no authority, Laura.” Satomi said softly. Her eyes were fierce. “You’re trying to throw your weight around where you have none. I cannot fault this young woman for knowing her way around._ You _cannot try to bully her into giving her reins so that you can use her children for your own personal gain. This isn’t how Talia would want her pack led.”_

_“Leave Talia Hale out of this.” Laura said. Her voice came out as a warning._

_“You asked for my council, Alpha Hale.” Satomi said. Her sudden use of the formality was telling. “Recently, nearly an entire pack was wiped off of the map-”_

_“The fire happened years ago-”_

_“Do not be so conceited to believe that the Hale pack is the only one that knows tragedy. I was not talking about you. It would do you well to know what happens not just inside your territory, but outside as well.” She shot Laura a look. Laura’s mouth flattened into a straight line. She nodded once at Satomi._

_“Recently,” Satomi said, “the Ingram pack was decimated by an unknown force. There have been no more reports, but with a pack just one state over being mass murdered so recently, do you really think your biggest concern should be expanding?”_

_“If anything, that’s why we should expand. This is exactly why we need Celeste Reyes to submit. We need to send the message that the Hale pack can’t be toppled.”_

_“What you intend to do is alienate yourself from a woman that could very well be useful in future endeavors by taking her children away from her and claiming them as your own.”_

Dinner had gone pretty horribly after that. Laura was tense, Satomi was quietly disapproving, Peter was amused, and everyone else was just uncomfortable. Satomi had made it pretty clear that she didn’t support Laura taking action against Celeste and wouldn’t help if Celeste chose to retaliate. Derek was getting tired of people treating this tiny blonde woman like she could do anything more than fire off a couple rounds of wolfsbane bullets, if that. He doubted she could back her veiled threat. Laura was right; it was only a matter of time before Celeste Reyes lost control of the pups and someone got hurt.

“How’s the little sister? What’s she like?” Laura asked Boyd, offering him a hand.

Boyd pursed his lips. “I don’t talk to her.” he said

“He doesn’t talk to anyone.” Jackson said, rolling his eyes.

“And you don’t talk to anyone below a certain income bracket unless it’s to remind them that you’re above them.” Laura sniped. “Boyd will have better luck with the sister than you will and we need her on our side if we’re ever going to get into her house.”

“Send McCall, then. He’s got the dopey eyes and the stupid smile.” Jackson said, rolling his shoulders.

“Scott’s completely gone on the Argent girl.” Peter murmured to Derek. “We’d have better luck sending _you_ after the little sister than have him sit there looking constipated because he’s talking to a girl that isn’t Allison.”

“Thanks, Uncle Peter.” Derek said.

“Wait.” Laura muttered.

Derek’s head snapped up. No. Oh, no. Oh God no. Laura was looking at him in that way that made him feel like he was being assessed. It was the same look she always gave him when she wanted something. She’d given him that look when she couldn’t get their prospective landlady to hand over a lease and needed him to bat his eyes. She’d given him that look when her boss had been unreasonable with her hours unless Derek took said boss out. She’d given him _that look_ when she wanted him to get police records, when she’d sent _Stiles_ with him to make sure he’d smile and flirt with the desk attendant like Laura told him to. Hell, even Stiles had given him that look right before Derek became cousin Miguel.

Derek hated that look.

“No.” Derek said.

“You haven’t even listened to what I have to say.” Laura complained.

“You want me to seduce a minor.”

“All you have to do is-”

“Make a minor believe that I, an adult, am attracted to her.” Derek finished. “I’ve already been arrested once, Laura.”

“I could do it.” Peter offered.

“I knew you were a pedophile.” Jackson laughed.

“I do what needs to be done. I have no intention of engaging in a sexual relationship with a child.”

“Everyone shut up.” Laura growled, eyes flashing red. “Derek’s doing it. Scott said the little sister had seizures. Both of her brothers are wolves; dangle the bite in front of her if you have to.”

“You can’t give the bite to her.” Derek said. “Celeste would-”

“She wouldn’t do anything because I’m not giving the bite to her sister. She just needs to believe that she’s got a chance to cure the epilepsy. She’ll do anything for that.”

“That’s cold.” Boyd whispered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a horrible person. Midterms are kicking my ass and I've been working on this monster of a chapter for a month because I didn't know where to cut it. Spring break's coming up, though, so hopefully I'll be able to update reasonably soon.


	9. I was dead when I woke up this morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The preamble to a storm is always so calm.

_“I don’t think anyone explained to you what I am, what I_ do.”

_She watched their bodies contort to force the shift back under their skin. Celeste reveled in their shock, took special pleasure in hearing their bones breaking. They hit the ground one by one, succumbing to the pain of a forced shift. Celeste cocked her head to the side at the look of furious surprise on Christina’s face._

_“No one told you.” Celeste murmured. “You attacked my child and came to my home half-cocked expecting to be able to, what? Beat a submission out of me? Kill me?”_

_Christina’s entire body was quaking. She could barely stand by the looks of it. She was a strong alpha, Celeste had to give her that one. It was no small feat to stay on your feet during an active shift, especially when you weren’t the one willing it to happen. Resisting a shift was probably something taught to born wolves young, though. No doubt, Christina’s father had been a powerful alpha, one that could shift all the way to a wolf. If Celeste hadn’t gotten the drop on him like she had…_

_“I know what you are.” Christina snarled. “You reek of blood and magic.”_

_Celeste looked down at her own hands, covered fingertip to forearm in hers and Isaac’s blood. Her tattoos were glowing brilliantly, a full spectrum of color overtaking every bit of visible skin. She took another pull from her cigarette._

_“You’re smarter than your father was.” Celeste said_

_“You have no right to speak of my father!”_

_“Oh, but I do.” Celeste hummed._

_She put her cigarette out in the palm of her hand, watching with detached inky black eyes as flames licked up from her skin to consume it. Werewolves didn’t heal from fire. It was the one thing that their bodies_ couldn’t _heal, not without years of uninterrupted care, and even then it was a case-by-case situation. There was no finite chance that they wouldn’t just die after years of trying to fix themselves._

_Celeste slapped her hands on her knees. She was frowning, she could feel it tugging the corners of her mouth down, but all she wanted to do was laugh. Idiots! This bunch was a force to be reckoned with, but they were hilariously misinformed. Christina, though, thought she had figured Celeste out in ways her father never had. Damien Ingram had called Celeste a witch, and then later a mage, when she’d cast a spell without incantations or ingredients. Celeste had let him, because his misunderstanding wasn’t hurting anyone. On the contrary, it was keeping people from getting hurt because he didn’t know what all Celeste was capable of._

_He didn’t know what he could try to abuse._

_“I told my father not to trust you.” Christina was saying. “He was ignoring it, the way your magic always smelled like blood when you did us favors. He said you were loyal to us.”_

_Weres were so_ strange _about loyalty. It shouldn’t have surprised Celeste, what with wolves being pack animals, but it still did. Loyalty was an odd little notion that Celeste didn’t quite have down. She didn’t do things out of a sense of loyalty to anyone. It had been nearly a year since she’d gotten the kids, but a large part of her still felt like she was caring for them because she had to. She loved them, sure, but if there had been literally anyone else that could take them in and raise them the way they deserved to be raised, she wouldn’t have come to collect them when the hospital called._

_Celeste had always been the type to love at a safe distance._

_Celeste held one hand out, palm splayed, and slowly began to draw her fingers into a fist. Christina screamed in a way that would make a lesser being’s skin crawl right off of their body. Celeste, however, all but delighted in watching blood run from her eyes, ears, and spurt from her gaping mouth._

_“You claim to know what I am, Christina.” Celeste murmured, not bothering to speak over the din of Christina’s pack’s screams. “So you should know that my loyalty lies with whichever way the wind blows on any one day.”_

_“I am not a druid, and I am certainly not a witch.” Celeste said monotonously. Christina regarded her with angry, confused eyes, red tears running freely. “Your father was bold, asking me to be the emissary for your pack. Mages...we_ change _things. We can make them better or worse, but it’s all about balance. Your father wanted the balance tipped in his favor by having a mage in his corner. I refused, naturally. Why would I agree to give council and to be led around by a pack of wolves?” she asked._

_Celeste laughed, but it felt hollow as it left her. She heaved herself to her feet. Her clothes were filthy, she mused. She supposed that running through the woods and laying in the dirt with a bleeding child in your arms would do that. Christina snarled what Celeste was sure was an insult, but she could hardly hear her over the wind that had just picked up--seemingly out of nowhere. Celeste looked to the quickly darkening sky, smiling to herself as sickly green clouds rolled in thick._

_“You’re no mage.” Christina gasped. She fell to her knees with a cry of pain._

_“Not one that you’ve ever seen. I’m a special breed.” Celeste hummed._

_Celeste raised her other hand, covered in the blood of her own, and snatched it into a fist. All around Christina, her pack howled, long and terrified before falling to the ground. This...this was what retribution looked like. These wolves had gone to extreme lengths to prove themselves a pillar of authority in this territory._

_She’d just have to raze it to the ground._

* * *

Celeste woke up screaming.

* * *

Celeste was quiet that morning, coming downstairs alone and making enough coffee for herself. There wasn’t a need for anyone else to drink it, anyways, with two small children and a teenager with epilepsy. She poured herself a cup, black. Usually she liked her coffee much sweeter, closer to her own bronzed complexion. This morning, though, she needed something strong and bitter.

Over the past week or so, she’d been having the same nightmare. She was no stranger to night terrors that would wake her up with her own screaming, but with those, there had never been a recollection of what had happened in the dreams. She’d just woken up feeling awful and gone about her day. Now, though, her nightmares were in vivid technicolor, going over The Attack and then subsequent events following it. That’s what she got, she supposed, for trying to repress the memories for so long. They were bound to surface at some point.

She always felt like this after dreaming about The Attack. It wasn’t that she was scared of the event or even remorseful for what she’d done. _That--_ some kind of endless guilt that weighed her down day to day--would’ve been fathomable, with all the lives she’d ended that night. What made her stomach heavy was that the simple fact that she didn’t feel much of _anything_ about what she’d done. It had been so easy to watch the wolves go up in flames, to let the storm wash them away until there was nothing left but charred grass.

She’d been warned about this. She hadn’t been able to complete most of the necessary training to transition from a Spark to a mage before she was running back home to keep her family from being torn apart by the foster system. This was her own fault; she had been told very plainly that she’d be on her own to keep herself together if she abandoned her training.

Back then, her magic had been volatile at best, and she only ever had a grip on it when she was allowed hours, occasionally _days_ at a time to center herself. She explained her plight to the ones training her, begged for a reprieve of some sort, enough to tide her over until she could come back and succumb to a full Realization.

_“Please. They need me. I can’t let this happen to them.”_

They had somewhat reluctantly told her that tattoos helped siphon her magic away from her core without expelling it and causing harm. Tattoos, however, were for fully Realized mages, and there was no guarantee that they would completely keep her in check with such unstable magic clawing around inside of her.

She hadn’t cared.

She’d agreed to getting the tattoos readily. She had sat still for hours as several hands carved ink into her skin, using her blood and their magic to bind it to her body like real tattoos. The pain was unimaginable, being awake as an athame went into her skin over and over, tearing new paths with each pass. They told her that when the markings healed and her own magic settled into them, they’d look just like the real thing.

Humans wouldn’t know the difference, she’d been assured.

They told her that the markings would handle the worst of it, but there would still be moments when the magic took over and ran its course. Magic was so powerful, so ethereal that it was almost like it was a living thing. In a way, she supposed, it was. It could manifest in ways that took control of Celeste’s body from her, changing the way she thought and therefore causing the bulk of her actions to differ drastically.

The night of The Attack, Celeste hadn’t bothered trying to reign her spark in when she felt it rolling around, testing its boundaries in her skin. She had just let it pour out in violent torrents. Even now, months later, she couldn’t bring herself to feel an ounce of remorse. She didn’t _care_ , and that in and of itself was uniquely terrifying.

Celeste sighed into her mug. She couldn’t let herself be bogged down by these things. The Attack had been a slippery slope, one that Celeste was still dragging herself out of that place. She _couldn’t_ be that person that didn’t care, not when she was in charge of so many lives.

It was still dark outside when Celeste padded down the porch steps. She really needed to sort out her sleep schedule; she was awake more than she was asleep, these days. Back in college, she could sleep for the longest, only to be awoken by multiple alarms. Nothing could rouse her. Now though, she was lucky if she slept for four hours straight without waking up covered in sweat, heart hammering against her ribcage. She had to take her rest where she could get it, she supposed. She was lucky she was sleeping at all, what with all of the fuss that usually surrounded sleeping.

She preferred taking short naps during the day, never long enough to incite dreams. Those were nice. Other times, though, she would stay up for as long as her body would allow, only closing her eyes when she absolutely couldn’t bear to be awake anymore. The exhaustion usually kept the nightmares at bay.

Celeste stilled as she was passing by the overgrown driveway. She wanted to ignore it, the tiny little sense that something was off. Ignoring it would’ve been ideal, really; that way, she could pretend like there wasn’t a problem. With a sigh, she raised a hand, ignoring the way it trembled. Her fingers grazed over the wall that only she could see.

Fuck.

There it was, more obvious than the last time, but still not an open attempt to breach her barrier. Where the crack from before had been them feeling out how strong Celeste’s magic was, this was them openly testing it.

They were seeing how hard of a push it would take to make her crumble.

Celeste raised her other hand to fix yet another crack in her barrier. She could feel a scowl settling into her face. Fine. Someone wanted to get in Celeste’s face and threaten her. She could handle this. Her barrier had been assembled with light magic, and while strong, it was still open to certain attacks.

She walked further towards the edge of the yard to the broken trunk. She gathered her spark in her hands, murmuring a summoning spell as she went. When her hands dug into the rich, cold soil, Celeste didn’t send a pulse of her own magic through it like she had last time. This time, she focused her spark and _pulled_ , drawing her hands out curled around fistfuls of dirt that solidified as she went. No longer was she holding onto loose earth; when she raised her hands out of the trunk she held an athame, neatly sheathed in a simple black scabbard.

She pulled the scabbard back. The athame was silver and covered hilt to tip in ornate runes. Inlaid within the end of the hilt was a stone that was the same lavender color as the barrier that protected Celeste’s house. She turned the blade over a few times. It had been a while since she had actually used it. Mages did this from time to time, siphoning their magic away into conduits to be used for spells and the like. At first, Celeste had used it in much the same way she used the tattoos; she needed somewhere to contain her magic, and physically emptying half of it into an inanimate item had seemed like as good an idea as any.

Being as strong a magical item as it was, Celeste had to keep it hidden, which was part of the reason why she used it in the barrier spell. For the barrier to be up and running 24/7, Celeste needed a steady well of energy that the spell could draw from. Sure, she manually gave the spell an extra kick if she was leaving anyone home alone, but the athame was enough by itself. It couldn't actually be drawn down to zero since it was literally _half_ of Celeste. It wasn’t just a cup that she filled when she, herself was overflowing.

At this point, it was a separate entity altogether.

Additionally, the athame could only be drawn from the soil by a very specific summoning spell, one used to locate magical items. This was the safest way to both hide the athame and keep her barrier up and running without the need for daily maintenance. Celeste took a deep breath.

“Want to test me, fine.” She muttered.

The scabbard fell soundlessly back into the trunk. Celeste lifted her left hand to meet the blade. She barely winced as she squeezed it in her fist and drew the blade down with the other hand. Blood ran down her wrist in rivulets, dripping into the soil. The soil, in turn, drank her offering greedily, pulsing bright white each time her blood hit it.

Celeste eyed her athame. The stone at the end was changing color, the lavender fighting a losing battle against the red that was beginning to bleed in at the edges. She watched as red overtook purple completely, strangling all traces of light and replacing it with deep, dark ruby.

Someone was testing her. Fine. Celeste raised the athame above her head in both hands, blood sluicing through the runes and painting them red. A white halo fanned out from above as the athame lit up with Celeste’s request.

She drove the blade down into the trunk and watched as it was swallowed up again by muddy ropes of blood and soil. The soil glowed bright red before the light sunk down into the roots and shot around the barrier in a flash of crimson light, one angry heartbeat.

“I’m game.” Celeste whispered.

* * *

Celeste whistled.

“Damn fine sunrise.”

* * *

 

“Come on, baby.” Celeste chooed.

Liam hissed and cried, face ruddy as he resisted Celeste. He was kicking at her hands every time she tried to get his pants on him. Tears streamed freely down the sides of his face, running onto the blankets beneath him as he squirmed. His little claws were tearing at his underpants, too, making ribbons of his favorite Spiderman briefs. It broke Celeste’s heart to see him so distressed, and it hurt even more that she couldn’t figure out what was upsetting him.

“You have to tell Mama what’s wrong, Liam. I need to know so I can help.” Celeste said.

Celeste gave up on the pants when it became clear that Liam wasn’t having it. Instead, she scooped him up from his bed and carried him, fussing and crying, to her room. She grabbed a towel that she had used to dry her hair the other day from the hamper and took it to her bed, laying Liam down on top of it. As quickly as she could, she swaddled him tightly, binding his arms so he couldn’t hurt himself with his claws. She drew her upset little burrito into her chest, rocking him softly.

“Hey now, little man, it’s okay.” She said.

That just made him cry harder. He nuzzled his face into her shirt, sobbing and hiccuping for all he was worth. Celeste held him tighter, hushing him and rubbing circles over his swaddled back. She hated not being able to help him. She had hoped that surrounding him with her scent would’ve done the trick, but it wasn’t working. She was his _mother_ , for christ's sake. If she couldn’t help him he was largely left on his own.

Celeste looked up at the sound of claws clicking against hardwood. Isaac was standing in the doorway, face red with the effort he must’ve been exerting to keep the shift back. His forehead was dotted with sweat. One of his hands was on the door, claws extended and slightly imbedded in the wood. The other was fisted in the shredded remains of his pant leg. When he looked up at Celeste, his eyes were a murky tossup between blue and gold.

“He’s not a _he._ ” Isaac lisped through a mouth full of fangs. “Not today.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Shit, how had Celeste managed to forget that the full moon rose tonight? There had been so many other things on her mind, but that was no excuse for forgetting. The boys should’ve been her first priority.

Celeste looked down at Liam. He had quieted, but was still crying. Of course he... _she_ had reacted badly when Celeste had tried to dress her in boy’s clothes. Celeste had even addressed her with male pronouns. Christ, that would’ve upset anyone, let alone a werewolf with a mental disorder that made everything a thousand times worse when they were upset.

“Hey, little lady.” Celeste tried. “Mama’s sorry she used the wrong names and clothes. I know you’re a girl. It’s okay.”

Liam stilled in Celeste’s arms. She sniffled, rubbing her red face into Celeste’s shirt. Yeah, it was looking like all three of them were going to need an outfit change. Celeste ran her fingers through Liam’s bangs, rocking her slowly. Within moments, Liam stopped crying, if only to replace tears with sniffling. Celeste looked up at Isaac. He was still halted in the doorway, looking supremely uncomfortable and mildly exhausted. Celeste wanted to shake her head at him for overexerting himself so early, but she knew it was best that he learned how to manage the shift under duress. The moon wasn’t even up yet and yet Liam and Isaac were having a rough go of it; this day was going to get a lot worse before it got better.

“How did you know?” Celeste asked Isaac, purposely leaving out any parts about Liam’s gender.

Isaac swallowed. “Boys and girls smell different. Liam always kinda smells like a girl, but today there’s no boy smell at all.” He said.

What a smart boy. Celeste set Liam down on her bed and went for her dresser. They were going to have to try this again. She pulled out Liam’s favorite little sundress, the one that had Celeste hustling out of the store right after buying it because Liam had shifted out of excitement over it. It was a baby blue little thing, sequined on top with a big, poofy skirt. Around the waist was a wide white ribbon that tied in the back in a huge bow that hung bowstrings to the hem of the dress.

Liam brightened noticeably when she saw what Celeste had in her hands. She struggled getting out of the towel, which finally drew a laugh from Isaac. He still hadn’t moved any closer, though.

Baby steps.

“Come on, Liam. Time to get dressed.”

Getting Liam dressed this time was notably easier than this morning’s attempt. Thankfully, Celeste had panties in her drawer for Liam to put on after Liam had pulled off her ruined Spiderman briefs. Liam generally wasn’t a fan of panties, but Celeste always kept a few pairs on hand just in case. Tights were a must with Liam at this time of the year, too, because Celeste didn’t raise a hussy. Liam was a little too shaken up still to comment on the fact that Celeste had put in her in white tights after Labor Day, the _scandal._ The real scandal was that Celeste couldn’t find any of Liam’s black tights, which probably meant that they were down in the laundry room somewhere and now Celeste was going to have to sort through the week’s worth of stuff she’d been ignoring.

Isaac was next, which really just involved a new pair of pants and a whole lot of ‘it’s okays’ as his claws caught on things. He didn’t like that Celeste had to help him get his pants on, but he didn’t have much of a choice because he wasn’t having any success retracting his claws. She had to tie his shoes for him too, which had him making “I want to cry but I’m Isaac” noises.

Thankfully, Celeste had just the thing for Liam and Isaac in her magic chest of wonders. She retrieved a pair of black shoes for Liam. Celeste’s back ached just thinking about how long she had hunched over those damn shoes, carefully pulling the soles off and cutting little runes into them before putting them back together.

Today was a colder day in October, so Celeste went for some of the heavier clothes. For Isaac, Celeste drew out a soft grey sweater. He kept his hands balled up into tight fists to keep his claws from ruining the fabric as she helped him get it on. A quick touch to each item once they had them on and they were no longer sporting the visual characteristics of the wolf.

Celeste crouched down in front of Isaac and took his hands in hers. Though his nails appeared blunted, when she focused, Celeste could see through her own glamour to the claws pressing into her palms. Isaac looked away, ashamed.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Celeste murmured.

“Liam can control the shift better than me.” Isaac bit out, cheeks coloring in embarrassment.

Celeste narrowed her eyes at Isaac. She didn’t like when he put himself down like that. He was doing remarkably well for a bitten wolf in his situation.

“Isaac.” Celeste said, “Liam was born a wolf. A part of her body already knows how to handle full moons, plus she’s gone through it a few times. This is your first one, dude.”

“But-” Isaac said, blue eyes glittering with unshed tears.

“No buts. Most bitten wolves would be locked in the basement somewhere on their first full moon because they can’t even think like a human anymore. You’re standing in front of me with no fangs, no fur, and human thoughts and you’re upset because of your claws?” Celeste asked.

“Well, yeah.” he muttered.

Celeste laughed. “Well, nothing. We know how to get rid of claws, Isaac. We go through our three.” she said.

Isaac nodded, face hesitant. “Nyx.” he whispered, “Promee…”

“Prometheus.” Celeste finished. “Hades. Nyx, Prometheus, Hades.”

They went on like that for a few minutes, until Celeste could see Isaac’s claws receding beneath the glamour. His face lit up when they did, and Celeste had to throw one arm back to catch the both of them when he hugged her. The other was around his waist, rubbing his back as she whispered praise in his ear. Isaac never gave himself enough credit; he could control the shift just fine; it was his confidence that they needed to work on.

Celeste stood up with Isaac’s arms still wrapped firmly around her neck. She let him lock his long legs around her waist. Isaac’s nose was pressed into the crook between her jaw and ear as he scented her. Liam had done the same thing in the past the day of full moons. It’s a wonder that no one had told Celeste what happened with Liam’s gender on these days; she would always hand her child over with no question, trusting that the Ingram pack would cause no harm. What if they had ignored it, or even worse, _denied it_ if Liam brought it up?

Celeste took a calming breath. It wouldn’t do her any good to get keyed up on a day like this, when Isaac and Liam hyper-focused on her every breath. She pushed the budding anger to the back of her mind. She could do this.

“Where’s Erica?” Celeste asked Isaac. The words stuck as they came out. Even saying Erica’s name was upsetting. She swallowed thickly to try to lessen her cotton mouth.

It didn’t work.

Isaac shrugged. “She doesn’t wanna go to school today.” he said.

When does she ever, Celeste groused. “Did she smell sick?” Celeste asked.

“No, but her feelings were all up in the air.”

“What was the strongest?”

Celeste hadn’t talked to Erica since she’d fixed Erica’s bedroom door and given it a lock with a key like she had promised she would. Erica seldom came out of there unless it was to use the bathroom or get food. Celeste should’ve seen that one coming, really.

“She’s, um, I don’t know the name for it, but it smelled like how Liam did when he wet his pants in the car that one time.” Isaac said.

Liam’s face flooded with color. She flashed angry yellow eyes at her brother, growling under her breath. “Was an assident!” she hissed, eyes glistening like she wanted to cry.

Celeste took it all in, nodding once. Isaac had smelled humiliation rolling off of his sister in waves. Erica didn’t want to go to school, probably because she was reluctant, maybe even _afraid_ to face the fallout of what had happened to her at school. Celeste recognized the problem for what it was, understood it, but couldn’t actually bring herself to care all that much. Though she knew why Erica was hiding, Celeste couldn’t help but think that her sister had picked a shitty time to pout. She didn’t have the time or patience to tiptoe around Erica’s feelings today, not when she had two werewolves to keep in line on the day of the full moon. Celeste rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck side to side.

“Erica Reyes.” Celeste droned, knowing full well that her magic would carry her voice to her sister’s ears. “You have all of five seconds to get out of bed before I send something up there to make you.”

Celeste counted silently to herself, giving Erica a generous five seconds. After that, she asked Isaac if Erica had gotten up yet. He shook his head, mumbling with red cheeks that Erica had said bad words. Celeste ticked her brow up at that. Cursing where she could be heard and disobeying Celeste, huh. Bold; Stupid, but bold.

Celeste drew a finger into her mouth, biting hard enough to draw blood. She crouched down and drew a circle around her shadow, muttering an incantation. The boys made uneasy little noises as the circle began to glow bright red, nearly blinding in its brilliance. In the very next instant, her shadow separated from her feet and rose from the floor. It floated in midair, no longer anchored to her body. It had been a while since Celeste had bid her shadow to do anything for her. The boys didn’t like her shadow and Erica absolutely hated it.

Celeste could, on an objective level, sympathize with them. The shadow was just that; it was a pitch black silhouette, with nothing for a face besides glowing red eyes. Where Celeste’s hair was hanging down, inky black tendrils floated around the shadow’s head like snakes. _Objectively,_ she knew that her shadow was a creepy, unnerving thing.

“Go get Erica.” Celeste told it.

The shadow had no mouth, so it couldn’t very much respond to anything she said, but it was smart enough to be able to follow commands to a fault. If she had to liken it to anything, Celeste would call her shadow a guard dog: imposing and obedient.

Celeste watched her shadow turn and fly up the stairs. Mere seconds later, Erica’s enraged and terrified screams could be heard even with human hearing. There was a commotion that sounded an awful lot like Erica was throwing things at Celeste’s shadow, and then almost dead silence save for Erica’s angry voice.

A few minutes later, Erica was stomping down the stairs loudly and mechanically. Celeste couldn’t even bring herself to feel satisfied that her shadow had successfully anchored itself to Erica’s and was making her move. Celeste took Erica's hateful little glare in stride when her sister came stomping into view, legs and arms moving awkwardly because Erica was actively trying to resist Celeste’s shadow. If there was one thing she could thank today for, it was not caring all too much about being on the other side of her sister's malice.

"You're not supposed to use your magic on me." Erica hissed

"You're supposed to be able to get out of bed and dress yourself." Celeste quipped

"This isn't fair." she said.

Celeste blinked. She wanted to laugh. _Fair,_ huh. It wasn't fair that she been forced to give up her life to care for three kids. It wasn’t fair that someone was fucking with her barrier outside. It _wasn't fair_ that the only thanks she got for her sacrifice was to be spat in the face by her sister.

Celeste heard the boys whimpering. She blinked again. Huh. She recognized the slightly oily feeling in her eyes. Her eyes must have blacked out at some point without her noticing. The boys had never seen her like this, and Erica had only seen it once, after the Attack. Celeste was always careful to never use so much magic that it would show in her eyes and reveal her for the monster she was. She blinked her eyes hard, forcing them to return to their normal color.

The damage was already done though, by the look on Erica’s face. She was afraid. Angry, but mostly afraid. Celeste heaved a sigh. She couldn’t do anything right by Erica, could she?

"Erica, today isn't a day to test my patience." Celeste said slowly. "I'm going to let you go, but you're going to get in the car and help the kids with their car seats."

Erica's face screwed up like she wanted to retort, but she wisely held back and nodded. Celeste bid her shadow back into her own body. She felt it before she saw it, slithering up her spine like a warm, wet current. Erica all but ran the boys out to the jeep, snatching the keys from the clear dish next to the door as she went.

* * *

Celeste bit her lip.

“Goddamnit.”

* * *

 

The shop was slow that day, unsurprisingly. No one really got up to weird shit on Thursdays. All the weirdos came out on the weekends. Fridays and Saturdays were generally the best days for sales, when the teenagers were done for the week and wanted Ouija boards and candles and incense and shit. The amateur spellcasters were fun, too; those people were always sticking their nose into things they didn’t quite understand. Celeste actually liked sending them off and purposely giving them ingredients that would fuck up their spells. On one hand, it kept them from actually hurting themselves or anyone else, but the main reason Celeste did it was because it drove sales. Most of them had it in their heads that Celeste was trying to help, so they sought out her guidance with their spells.

Please; Celeste wasn’t so dim that she would sell things that could actually cause serious harm to the average human for the average price. She was no nogitsune. She didn’t thrive off of chaos and pain.

“Where does this one go?” Isaac asked. He was standing on a step stool, a pile of books stack on the ground at his side. He was holding one in his hands, looking conflicted. Generally, he was pretty good at figuring out where things went. Isaac liked books. Celeste cast a quick glance at where Liam was sleeping in the playpen, already knocked out from this morning’s fit before getting up and walking over to Isaac. She squinted at the book he was holding. When had she ordered hunter history volumes?

“I don’t really know, buddy. Here, I’ll find somewhere for it. Is this the only one like it?” she asked.

“There are a few more in the box.” Isaac said, pointing to an open box in the corner. Celeste frowned. Huh. She did that sometimes, binge-ordering books in the middle of the night when she was feeling especially curious and Wikipedia wasn’t cutting it. Hunters, though. Celeste knew how they worked already. Why the hell had she bought stuff to learn more about them?

Whatever.

“I’ll handle these, buddy. Keep up the good work.” Celeste said.

Isaac’s shoulders straightened a little at the praise before he went back to shelving books. He had practically put the store together himself, the way he had bossed Celeste around when she was setting up. He knew where most everything was, which was why Celeste trusted him to shelve books. Everything was organized by categories marked off by chalkboard signs that hung above each shelf, so he couldn’t really go wrong so long as he kept like books together.

Celeste sat back down behind the counter and flipped the book open. It was relatively old, possibly a couple of decades judging by the type of paper and yellowing. Strange that she didn’t remember ordering it, because it would have taken a little bit of effort to find an older book. She took in the elegant, loopy cursive.

 _“A Cumulative History of Hunting,_ huh.” Celeste muttered.

The book was clearly written by a hunter, because it lacked the objectivity that history books were supposed to have. Every recollection was told from a biased, borderline racist point of view. According to the author, anything inhuman was a monster by sheer virtue of existing, and therefore needed to be exterminated for the good of humankind. Whomever had written the book had a lot of anger in general, clearly. Celeste snorted as she worked through a collection of false Were characteristics. Children-eating carnivores, her ass. They were still human at the root of it all, and only a handful of their species could even turn into wolves. She was sure that there were a few that embraced the wolf’s instincts more than the average Joe, but every group had its outcasts.

She snorted when the author started in on witches. Was people-eating a supernatural trait? Jesus, what kind of idiot thought that someone got their power from eating someone’s flesh? The blood was all you needed, and you didn’t need to _drink_ it. Maybe hunting spurred from a fear of being eaten alive.

The author thought that salt would hold out witches, too. If that idiot thought that they could pour a little table salt on the ground and be safe from a witch, they were mistaken. While irritating, salt wasn’t exactly a difficult barrier for a witch to cross, and the salt had to be blessed for it to work in the first place. Funny, that blessed salt worked on supposedly godless creatures.

Page after page, the author went on to slander multiple beings. Admittedly, there was some truth at the root of each assumption, so the author hadn’t completely missed the mark. It just read a lot like they made up whatever they didn’t know for certain. Celeste set the volume aside and went for the box that Isaac had told her about. She sat down on the floor in front of it as she pulled each book out.

 _“Seducing the Beast: a manual.”_ Celeste said, snickering. The damn thing was a how-to on tricking people into letting you, the hunter, into their life so that you could ruin it. It was a thin little book, more of an informational pamphlet than anything else. Looks like hunters didn’t waste too much time trying to get you to like them.

They just went straight for the kill.

Celeste had learned pretty early on not to fuck with hunters. What they lacked in skill they made up for in sheer numbers alone. Get rid of one, and nine more come sniffing around to figure out what happened. It was just in everyone’s best interest not to kick that particular hornet’s nest. Hunters were, for the most part, an avoidable fight.

Celeste had just started in on _A Pedigree of Hunting Houses_ when the bell above the door chimed, signaling someone’s entrance. Celeste almost instantly recognized the jumpy energy. She put the volume down.

“Hi, Stiles.” Celeste said.

“How did you know it was me?” Stiles asked, coming around to stand at Celeste’s side. She eyed his beat up Converse, shrugging.

“You’re the only kid in town that drives a beat up blue Jeep, as far as I know.” Celeste said, gesturing to the window just above her head like she had seen his approach through it. “Shouldn’t you be in school right now? Last time I checked, high schools let out closer to three.”

“It’s my lunch.” Stiles said.

“They let sophomores leave for lunch?” Celeste asked.

“If you walk fast and leave through the gym they do.”

Celeste snorted a laugh. Look out, she had Billy badass on her hands. She held her hand out, eyeing Stiles expectantly. “Help me up, I’m old.” she said.

He took her hand after a beat of hesitation, pulling her to her feet. Stronger than he looked, that was for sure. His hands were kind of clammy, too. Celeste couldn’t tell if that was because she made him nervous or because he was a nervous person in general. She dusted off her overalls. Fuck Erica; overalls were a comfortable piece of clothing that required little effort on her part and were basically a full body smock. Celeste liked her clothes.

“You came here for a reason, I’m assuming.” Celeste said.

Stiles nodded quickly, shrugging off his backpack. He walked over to the counter and set it down. “I was thinking, about those books you showed me in your office.” he started, loudly unzipping his backpack--how does anyone loudly unzip a backpack, Jesus--and rummaging around in it. “They’re in a ton of different languages, and one straight up doesn’t make sense even though you speak like ten.”

“I do not speak ten languages, Stiles.” Celeste said, amused.

Stiles had been really fascinated by the book and the codex when she’d let him into her office, though. His fingers had twitched, like he wanted to touch but knew that he’d get kicked out if he did. He didn’t understand any of the languages, but that didn’t stop him from asking her to turn pages so he could look at the words and symbols. He’d asked a lot of questions, too, more than Erica had asked in a very long time and he didn’t even know to ask about magic.

Stiles pulled a slightly crumped paper from his backpack and handed it to Celeste. It was a print out from Wikipedia on the effects that a lack of sleep does to the mind. Celeste looked up at Stiles, confused.

“You want an herbal tea to help you sleep?” She asked.

Stiles ran his hand over his buzzed head. He looked frustrated. “No, my dad snores and I was looking up sleep apnea and then I ended up looking up lucid dreaming and sleep paralysis.” he told her.

Now Celeste was even more confused. Her face screwed up. “So your _dad_ needs a tea?” she asked.

Stiles grimaced. “No one needs tea, well, maybe. That’s not the point though. That article was talking about how when you’ve been awake for too long, you start messing up things. Not being able to read, y’know. It got me thinking about the books.”

Celeste walked over to the counter, leaning against it to look Stiles in the eyes. He looked like he was about to wet himself, the excitement was so apparent. Celeste was one to go on a tangent, herself, but even she couldn’t see where Stiles was going with this one.

“And what connection did you make in a couple days that I haven’t in over a month of having the books?” Celeste asked, voice only slightly teasing. She didn’t have two degrees for nothing, but fresh eyes were always welcome.

Stiles paused, looking a little unsure of himself now. He wiped his hands on his jeans, probably to wick off the sweat. Celeste frowned at the little bit of guilt she felt for making him doubt his finding. She used to hate when people did that shit to her in college.

“It was a joke, Stiles. You’ve got a fresher perspective than I do, so it’s pretty likely that you noticed something I’ve been overlooking. Go ahead.” Celeste said.

Stiles nodded. He swallowed before speaking. “Well um, it was saying that a lack of sleep can invert letters or make them backwards.” he started, gaining confidence the longer he spoke. “What if, like, the author’s made up language is just a normal one that he put upside down and backwards to confuse anyone that tried to read it?”

Celeste could’ve been knocked over with a feather. “Stiles.” she breathed. Why the hell hadn’t she thought of that?

Stiles blushed, uneven red covering his pale cheeks. “Nevermind, it sounds stupid. Ignore me. Delete everything I just said. Start over, the tea-”

“Forget the tea for a minute, Stiles.” Celeste said. She took his shoulders in her hands and gave him a few shakes. He was nearly bigger than her despite him being only sixteen, and pretty broad in the shoulders. “I’ve been looking at the words left to right this whole time and didn’t even bother trying to read the book the other way or turn the whole thing upside down. You’re a genius.”

Stiles’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a word I don’t get called often.” he joked.

“They don’t give you enough credit.” she said seriously. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“I have an away game. Why?”

Celeste took her phone out of her pocket. She checked the time. Shit, Stiles probably had to get back to school soon. “Okay, um, Sunday. Come by my shop and I’ll have lunch and the books. Is that okay? My sister probably won’t be working so it’ll just be us.” she said. She winced inwardly at how that sounded. God, she was asking the sixteen year-old son of the sheriff to be alone with her grown ass.  “That didn’t sound good. Here, give me your dad’s number and I’ll ask him if I can even be alone with his underaged son, Jesus.”

Stiles barked a laugh, the first she’d ever heard out of him. It was kind of mean-sounding, if that made sense. It sounded like he was making fun of himself. “Me reading books on a Sunday afternoon would literally be the least of his worries.” he said. “Do you have a pen?”

“Yeah, hold on.” Celeste said, reaching over the counter to get at the little mug on the register filled with writing utensils. She handed him a pen, and he took the article from her before scrawling a number on the back.

Stiles collected his backpack as he spoke, slinging it over his shoulder. “That’s his cell number. I gotta get back to school.” He looked at the bookshelf that Isaac had been not so discreetly hiding behind the entire time. His blonde curls poked out from his hiding spot. “If you see Isaac tell him I said hi.” Stiles said to Celeste.

“Will do.” Celeste said.

Celeste looked down at the paper with _John Stilinski_ messily written over a number. She wasn’t too hot on purposely interacting with law enforcement, but Stiles was actually onto something here. Who knows what else he would figure out with some real time to look at the book and the codex. She just had to be on her best behavior around him.

Easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive and we finally know what Celeste is! This chapter is split into two because it was getting too long. I struggled writing this, because I didn't want to make anything seem rushed. The night of the full moon is next. For those that are waiting for some Stiles action, please bear with me. I'm at the point in the story where I can finally get the ball rolling.

**Author's Note:**

> As you've read, I've changed Isaac's and Liam's ages. They are children, and the story will continue as such. I wanted to play with not just the canon universe, but also with the characters and what would happen if they were introduced at different ages. Additionally, I have introduced an original female character. Please bear with me; don't turn your back on this fic just because there are original characters. This is the first fic I've posted here, and while I always welcome constructive criticism, I do not appreciate blatant rejection of my work without reason. Feel free to let me know what you think.


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